


Superstar Revamped

by Kantayra of Yore (Kantayra)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-08-04
Updated: 2002-11-03
Packaged: 2017-10-21 00:51:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 54,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra%20of%20Yore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU of the S4 episode 'Superstar'. With her friends brainwashed, Buffy must turn to an old enemy for help. However, soon she and Spike find themselves fighting a losing battle against the irresistible attraction between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New World

Buffy walked slowly down main street, her mind a blur. Something was terribly, horribly wrong. Somehow, deep in her bones, she could feel it. Yet it remained just beyond her grasp.

Absentmindedly, she picked up a Jonathan Action Figure one of the two kids on the street had dropped and handed it back to him with a small smile. She watched the two boys play for a while, then shook her head. After all, what could possibly be wrong with two innocent children playing?

No, she knew what was wrong. Or more accurately who. Or, even _more_ accurately, what was wrong about who being wrong about what. Buffy began to feel dizzy at all the interrogative pronouns floating around in her head.

 _Keep to straight, simple facts_ , she encouraged herself. _Jonathan saw the symbol on that monster. He said it was harmless. Said monster then attacked Tara. Ergo, said monster is not harmless._

She began to feel confused again when she arrived at the same conclusion as she had before.

 _Jonathan is wrong_ , she tried out the idea in her head. _Jonathan is never wrong._ That one was easy, a plain fact of the universe. _Jonathan is wrong, but Jonathan is never wrong… Therefore, there must be something wrong with the universe._

“Argh!” Buffy exclaimed aloud, clutching at her hair. This was _not_ doing her any good. Maybe a movie would help. The Sun Cinema was playing ‘Being Jonathan Levenson’. And she _had_ only seen that movie five times before…

 _Focus on problem. Problem bad. Problem must be fixed… Hey, maybe Jonathan can help…_ Buffy winced inwardly. _No, Jonathan part of problem!_ Her brain still had difficulty getting around that concept. _Bad mind! Bad!_

She paused for a second. _Why_ exactly did her brain have such difficulty getting around that concept? I mean, no one was perfect, right? That meant that Jonathan obviously wasn’t perfect as well. _But he_ is _perfect_ , her treacherous mind insisted.

Buffy shook the thought out of her head. It felt strange, alien, like something or someone was sticking those thoughts in her head. It felt almost like…

Buffy’s eyes widened. She felt the _exact_ same sensation before. All too recently, unfortunately…

 _I love Spike. I want to marry Spike. I’m so happy we’re engaged…_

 _That_ particular train of false thoughts had been running through her head almost nonstop that one time Willow had cast her Thy Will Be Done spell.

 _So what I’m feeling feels like a spell…_ Buffy’s thoughts felt unnecessarily bogged down, as if they were trying to move through thick molasses. _So that means that…maybe I’m feeling a spell right now. And last time the strangely out-of-place thoughts defined the spell…so these ones probably do, too. Which means…_ Her mind made its own little dramatic pause here. _Which means that the spell’s making me believe that Jonathan’s perfect!_

She smiled at the fact that she’d finally come to a revelation, and then her expression fell when she realized exactly what that revelation meant.

“Jonathan’s not perfect,” she tried the words out in her mouth. They sounded strange and discordant. “Jonathan’s not perfect,” she repeated. It felt a little better this time. “Jonathan’s not perfect.” She looked around her, noticing the ‘Jonathan’ posters all around and – for the first time – thinking how odd it was that he was absolutely _everywhere_. “Jonathan’s not perfect,” she said once more with finality. “So why does everyone think he is?”

* * *

This was not going well. Anya had that bored, incredulous look on her face _again_. And Giles, Xander, Willow, and Riley will quickly developing their own versions of The Look.

“I’m just saying it doesn’t make sense,” Buffy persisted, feeling more than a little bit flustered. “He starred in ‘The Matrix’ but he never left town? And how exactly did he graduate from med school? He’s only eighteen years old!”

“Effective time management?” Xander quipped good-naturedly.

“I’m sorry, Buffy,” Giles sighed and cleaned his glasses. “I just don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

Anya yawned. “Yeah. When is Jonathan gonna get here and start the meeting?”

“This is the meeting,” Buffy exclaimed, frustrated.

“This is the meeting?” Willow repeated in disbelief.

Riley flashed her a sweet, loving smile. “Buffy has something to say. Let’s hear what it is.” He gave her hand a little condescending pat “Go ahead.”

Buffy couldn’t decide whether to be irritated by his patronizing tone or grateful that at least one person was willing to let her babble on. “Well,” she looked around at the sea of confused faces, “I wanted to kind of…see if anyone else thinks Jonathan’s, kind of, too perfect.” She practically blurted out the last two words, still almost too embarrassed to say them aloud.

Looks of horror all around. Those were never good.

“No, he’s not!” Xander blurted out. “He’s just perfect enough. He crushed the bones of the Master, he blew up a big snake made out of Mayor, and he coached the U.S. Women’s Soccer Team to a stunning World Cup victory. We saw him doing those things!” He looked to Anya for reassurance, and she gave his hand a little squeeze.

“But see, I’m not sure we can trust our memories,” she persisted to her rapidly vanishing audience. “Anya, tell them about the alternate universes!” she pleaded.

The ex-demon shrugged. “Oh. Okay, well, say you really liked shrimp a lot,” she began to ramble. “Or, we could say that you didn’t like shrimp at all. ‘Blah, I wish there weren’t any shrimp,’ you say to yourself—”

“No, no,” Buffy clutched at her head in exasperation. “She’s not saying it right. I just think he did something so he’s manipulating the world, and we’re all, you know, like pawns.”

“Or prawns,” Anya added, amusing herself.

“Stop with the shrimp!” Buffy screamed in frustration. “I’m trying to do something serious here!”

“Yes, of course,” Giles stepped in hurriedly, “I just…I think you’re a little out of your depth.”

“But, I’m not—” Buffy protested weakly.

“It sounds like nonsense,” Riley commented off-handedly.

Buffy flashed him a murderous look.

“But if it’s really bothering you, I suppose we could – I don’t know – do some research or something.” He gave her a goofy, saccharine smile. “If it’ll make you feel better.” He gave her hand another squeeze.

Buffy debated kicking his teeth in then and there.

“Is this a private conversation,” a voice suddenly broke the awkward tension in the room, “or can Mister July sit in?”

“Oh, thank god, it’s Jonathan!” Anya breathed a sigh of relief. “Now the insanity can go away.”

“Insanity?” Jonathan gave Buffy a curious look.

She wilted under that authoritative and commanding presence.

“I-I just…” she began, stuttering.

“The Buffster’s just got this goofy idea in her head that there’s something off about this world,” Riley said, his arm slipping around her shoulders. “It’s silly, but she thinks you were wrong about that monster.”

To say Buffy’s look was venomous would be an understatement.

“Wrong?” Jonathan asked Buffy intently.

“I-It hurt Tara,” Buffy stuttered, embarrassed. “You said it was harmless, and then it attacked Tara.”

Jonathan gave her a reassuring smile. “I can’t predict every monster’s exact moves,” he pointed out. “Sometimes unpredictable things happen.”

“So you still stay…”

“It’s generally pretty harmless,” Jonathan reaffirmed his earlier sentiments. “This was an aberration.”

“B-But if it’s acting oddly…” Buffy looked around nervously for support and found none. “Shouldn’t we go after it, just in case?” she asked meekly.

“Sure,” Jonathan shrugged. “If it would make you feel better.”

“See?” Riley rested his hand on Buffy’s shoulder. “You were all worked up over nothing.”

“Yeah,” Jonathan agreed. “Let’s go look for it now. C’mon.”

Buffy’s brow furrowed as her world seemingly fell back into place. Jonathan was reasonable, and he really couldn’t be expected the read the minds of every monster than came into town… Maybe she _had_ just been overreacting before.

“OK,” she agreed, following Jonathan out the door…

* * *

“Big,” Jonathan said. “Long claws and teeth. This symbol on its forehead.” He held up the picture for Willy to look at.

“Haven’t seen it,” the bartender shrugged, cleaning out a mug as he squinted at the paper.

“It’s been attacking people around town,” Buffy nervously added. “We need to find it.”

He sighed. “Look, it hasn’t been in. You can ask the locals, but I doubt they’re seen anything, either.”

“You’re sure?” Jonathan’s tone was deadly.

Willy held up his hands in front of himself defensively. “Honest this time,” he insisted.

“Let’s go then,” Jonathan said wearily. “It looks like it’s left town.”

“I guess, but…” Buffy trailed off and her brow furrowed.

“Hey, um, Jonathan?” Willy’s voice caused them both to spin back around.

“Yeah?” If Buffy didn’t know better, she would have sworn there was a hint of nervousness in Jonathan’s tone.

“Could I, uh…” Willy stuttered, “have your autograph?” he finally spit out sheepishly. “It’s for my niece, you see. She’s a real big fan of yours, and—”

“Here,” Jonathan pulled one of his trusty 8x10 glossies for his pocket and quickly signed it.

“Thanks, man,” Willy said with obvious delight. “I owe you one.”

“I think we should call it a night,” Jonathan commented as they exited the bar.

“Isn’t there anywhere else it could have gone?” Buffy found herself asking, despite her earlier conviction that she wasn’t going to embarrass herself in front of him anymore. “I mean, we’ve only asked here.”

“All right,” he nodded affably enough, “we can ask around a bit more if you feel it’s necessary.”

Her face turned bright red. “Not that I know what’s necessary,” she hastily backtracked. “In fact, you know what: you’re right. It’s probably gone. We should just go home and—”

“No,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s keep searching just a bit longer. Maybe it just doesn’t like the smell in Willy’s.”

Buffy couldn’t help but smile. What on earth had she possibly been thinking, questioning Jonathan’s trustworthiness? He was obviously doing everything in his power to stop the beast. Entirely reassured, she followed him downtown…

* * *

Buffy’s feet hurt by the time they made their final stop in Sunnydale Cemetery. It was nearly midnight by now, and she was cold and tired. They were just approaching Spike’s crypt when the bleached vamp suddenly materialized out of the shadows to cut them off.

“Oh, look,” he drawled in that confident tone that set every one of her nerves on edge, “Jonathan. Taking the little sidekick out for a walk, are we?”

He looked her up and down seductively, and to her horror she found herself blushing under his appraisal.

“Shut up, Spike,” she spit out, mentally slapping herself repeatedly for not being able to come up with any better comeback.

“Ooh,” Spike held his hands up in mock fear, “Semi-harsh language from Betty. You’re feisty when the big guy’s standing beside you.”

He was in her personal space now, their faces less than a foot apart. For some reason his presence made her shiver involuntarily. He raised one hand to her face, and she felt her heart begin to pound fiercely in her chest…and not in fear, either.

Ever so slowly, he ran one finger down the side of her face, tracing the curve of her cheek down to her throat in a forbidden caress. She felt time slow to a crawl while she stared deep into those mesmerizing cerulean eyes and her body subconsciously leaned into his touch.

She barely managed to suppress a gasp when he stroked the tender flesh over her jugular oh so gently. He must have felt the reaction in her, though, because his pupils dilated for a second, ebony overtaking lapis before fading away again.

“Someday, Sweet Slayer,” he whispered in a husky voice, “I’d love to take you on. See you face the evil alone for once…” His brow furrowed for a second as if he were trying to recall some long forgotten memory. He never had a chance to find it, though.

Buffy was shocked back into reality when Jonathan slapped Spike’s hand away from her roughly. She had completely forgotten for a minute there that they weren’t alone; the world had just seemed to close in around the two of them…

She came out of her daze to discover that Jonathan now had Spike pressed up against the crypt wall. The peroxide vampire was attempting to twist from his captor’s grasp, but he was helpless against Jonathan’s strength.

“That’s enough creepy small talk,” Jonathan growled. “We’re looking for a monster.”

“Why would I know about that?” Spike protested, still squirming uselessly in Jonathan’s grasp.

“Every demon in this town is gunning for you right now,” Jonathan explained patiently. “So I figure you’re probably keeping pretty good track of them. Big arms. Mark on its head. Have you seen it?” he demanded once more.

“No,” Spike shrugged and flashed Buffy a wry grin. “But then again, I’m probably lying,” he added, his tongue curling up beneath in teeth.

Jonathan gave him one final shove before letting him go. “We’re not getting anything out of him,” he commented wearily. “Let’s go.”

Buffy looked back and forth between her companion and the vampire who was rubbing his head in the background and slowly nodded her head.

Jonathan stomped out of the cemetery, and Buffy moved to follow.

“Oh, Biddy,” that irritating British accent stopped her in her tracks.

She turned to face him, eyes blazing.

“Nice…talkin’ to you,” he said sensuously, his hand sliding down the front of his shirt before hooking into his belt. The motion practically forced her eyes to continue downwards, and she cursed herself when she heard his chuckle. “Hurry up now,” he teased. “Wouldn’t want to get caught out at night all by your lonesome, now would you?”

Spinning around to hide the crimson flush in her cheeks, she dashed after Jonathan, the sound of the laughter behind her grating in her ears all the way…

* * *

“So, it’s a false alarm. Surprise, surprise,” Anya said, rolling her eyes.

“It seems clear that the monster’s left town,” Jonathan agreed.

“See?” Riley said, smiling at Buffy. “You were all worked up over nothing.”

“Uh, yeah…heh-heh,” she tried desperately to sound friendly and happy that his arm was around her waist once more.

“Well, then,” Giles said, picking up the tea tray and carrying it over to the kitchen area, “are we done for the night?”

Jonathan nodded. “I think so. Buffy and I managed to take out a few fledglings while we were asking around, so patrol’s taken care of as well.”

“Very cool,” Riley smiled. He turned to Buffy. “I know it’s late, but it’s not that late. Want to come hang out at my place?” he asked enthusiastically.

A feeling of deep dread settled through her bones. “Sorry,” she said, smiling sweetly and then yawning for emphasis. “All that walking _really_ tired me out. I just want to go home and sleep. Maybe another time?”

“Sure,” he said, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“Will, you coming?” she asked the redheaded Witch.

“Maybe later,” Willow smiled sheepishly. “I kinda want to go see how Tara’s doing first.”

“All right then. I’ll see you later. Bye, guys!” She waved quickly and then practically fled from Giles’ apartment.

She didn’t quite know why she ran all the way back to her dorm. Something about the last meeting had just felt…stifling, as if she were being forced into a mold that didn’t fit. _Like, say, the mold of Riley’s arms_ , a nasty part of her mind provided. She winced inwardly at the thought. Jonathan had told her to give Riley a second chance, so she should… _Wait a minute!_ her mind cut in. _Jonathan problem, remember? Can’t necessarily trust everything he says._

 _But he was right all along_ , that oddly out of place part of her mind stepped in. _It was just a fluke. You can trust Jonathan because he’s a good guy, and if he says you belong with Riley, then it must be so._

Buffy shook her head in frustration and slowed to a halt when she reached the entranceway to Stevenson Hall.

“Out for a jog,” she explained, giggling nervously to the two students that gave her odd looks when she approached.

She quickly made her way upstairs without any further human contact and plopped down on her bed, exhausted. _Need sleep_ , her mind provided. _When I wake up, everything will be normal again._

She decided to do just that before making a brief stop in the bathroom. As she combed her hair, she slowly shook all the worries from her head. The reason Jonathan was everywhere was because he was a hero and a pop star, not to mention a genius. When looked at in that light, it made perfect sense that her mind had idolized him and thus had difficulty dealing with the fact that he’d made one little mistake.

Much relieved, Buffy turned to go back to her room…and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the Jonathan swimsuit calendar that one of the girls on their floor had tacked up on the wall. She felt her throat constricting uncomfortably as she stared at the mark on Jonathan’s bare shoulder.

That was it.

The mark of the beast.

And once again her world came crashing down around her.

* * *

Spike looked up from the television, startled, when the door to his crypt was suddenly and violently kicked in.

“Look, Johnny,” he turned to the door, irritated, “I told you already that…” He trailed off abruptly when he saw who was there. “Blinky?” he asked in disbelief.

“You hate Jonathan, right, Spike?” Buffy demanded, shutting the door behind her.

He fumbled to turn off the re-run of Jonathan’s guest spot on ‘Passions’. “Sure, yeah,” he tried to sound composed.

“Good,” she frowned slightly at his hesitation but plunged ahead. “You want to get him, right? Get back at him for always foiling your plans?”

“Old news, Slayer,” Spike said disinterestedly, lighting up a cigarette.

She gave him a sly smile. “Then today’s your lucky day, Spikey,” she informed him.

He gave her an incredulous lilt of the eyebrow.

“I need your help to defeat the new Big Bad,” she explained. “And I’m pretty sure it’s Jonathan…”


	2. Strange Bedfellows

Spike laughed.

Buffy didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it had been anything but that.

He was almost in hysterics by now and fell out of his seat onto the floor. “Honestly,” he shook his head, fighting back tears of mirth, “this has to be the _lamest_ scheme you guys ‘ave ever come up with!” He frowned for a minute, baffled as to why that line sounded so familiar.

Buffy did as well, and then she shook her head. “This isn’t a trick,” she insisted. “Jonathan’s evil!”

“Yeah…right,” he chuckled slightly to himself. “Go on then, Birdie,” he said, still amused. “Explain to me why Jonathan’s…” snort, “… _evil_.”

“Remember that monster we were looking for earlier?” Buffy demanded, more irritated than flustered by Spike’s reaction. “W-Well, it has the same symbol on its forehead that Jonathan has on his shoulder. And Jonathan’s been covering for it. A-And he’s _everywhere_! It’s like the universe centers around him or something. It’s weird! It’s not natural!”

Spike rolled his eyes in her direction. “Someone’s jealous,” he sing-songed.

“I’m not jealous!” she insisted. “Look, I’m going to tell you this from the beginning, and you’re going to believe me.”

“What? ‘Cause you said so?” he taunted her. “Please. ‘ve got better things to do with my time.”

“You’re just waiting for the scene where Jonathan’s shirtless,” she accused when he moved to turn the TV back on.

 _That_ did the trick. His hand whipped back as if it had been stung.

“Right then,” Spike let out an annoyed sigh and turned to look at her. “You’re not goin’ away anytime soon, are you?”

“Just listen,” Buffy persisted.

“Go ahead,” he said wearily. “Not like I can do anything else while you’re yammerin’ away,” he muttered under his breath.

Buffy ignored his comment. “A few days ago the monster attacked one of Jonathan’s groupies. It was on the front lawn of his mansion. The girl barely escaped with her life.”

“Kudos to the monster,” Spike interrupted impatiently. “Always said someone needed to thin the herd around that fellow. Is this going somewhere?”

“The monster had a mark on its forehead,” Buffy continued to plod through her story. “This symbol,” she held up the piece of paper in her pocket. “When this girl drew the symbol for Jonathan, he reacted. He recognized it.”

“The man _is_ an expert in over twelve fields of demon study,” Spike raised an eyebrow at her.

“He recognized it, but he did nothing. He said it wasn’t dangerous and it had probably left town anyway,” she added.

“Well, then it left town,” Spike shrugged and reached over to the television. “Problem solved.”

“Problem not solved,” she quickly put herself between him and the TV. He let out an annoyed little snarl, but couldn’t really do anything to move her. “The monster attacked again the next night. It hit a friend of Willow’s.”

“Prob’ly jus’ hungry ‘cause the chit last night got away,” he commented, off-hand.

“Maybe,” Buffy nodded slowly. “Anyway, Tara got away, too. Same symbol, same everything. It’s a pattern.”

“Yeah? _And_?”

“And Jonathan _still_ says it nothing,” Buffy said triumphantly.

Spike’s brow furrowed slightly. “Maybe he jus’ knows the demon better’n we do,” he finally suggested. “After all, if he said—”

“And it’s not just that,” a smile crept up on her face as she saw the realization spark in the depths of his eyes. “Jonathan is everywhere. Literally. Can you name any other action hero? How about anyone else who’s won an Oscar in the past three years? Any other hit pop star? Any other author that’s written a best-selling book lately?”

Spike shook his head to each of them in turn.

“He did them _all_ ,” Buffy said. “It’s physically impossible. By my calculations, he must be filming at least four movies at a time. _All_ of which he’s starring in. And _none_ of which ever require him to be gone even for a minute. Plus, on top of that he slays, and he teaches, and he—”

“So?” Spike demanded.

“It’s impossible!” Buffy exclaimed. “No one is that big.”

The vampire pulled an old TV Guide from under his chair and tossed it to her. She looked to see Jonathan’s picture on the cover.

“Been on every cover for the past three months,” he commented, taking a deep drag of his cigarette.

“The Mayor even paused during his Ascension to have his picture taken with Jonathan. It’s ridiculous! Absurd!” she continued to pressure him.

“Back in the sixties, there was this huge craze ‘round the Beatles,” Spike began. “They were _everywhere_. ‘S just that way with Jonathan now.”

“But were they, literally, everywhere?” Buffy demanded. “Did every single person love them? What about the old people? Weren’t they scared that the Beatles were warping their children’s minds?”

“But Jonathan doesn’t do that,” Spike pointed out.

“Argh!” Buffy exclaimed in exasperation. She smashed her fist down against the back of his chair, and the piece of furniture crumbled under her strength.

“’ey!” Spike protested, leaping to his feet. “You know how long it took me to find one that didn’t smell?”

“Oops,” Buffy said nervously.

“ ‘Oops’?” he exclaimed in disbelief, circling around her like the predator he was. “ ‘Oops’?!”

“I didn’t mean to, and—hey! You’re the vampire here. I shouldn’t have to apologize to you,” her own tone abruptly turned angry.

He snorted derisively. “Yeah, like you’d have half a chance in hell, takin’ me on without the Big Boss to help you out.”

“Wanna test that?” she threatened, her fist flying at his nose with lightning speed.

His head rolled to the side just in time to avoid the full force of the blow. She dropped to the ground to kick his feet out from under him. He leapt. His own foot lashed out at her head, heedless of the chip. She slipped to the side just in time.

Kick. Block. Punch. Block. Kick. Flip. Kick. Block. Block. Block. Block. Block.

They both froze as their blows were simultaneously and perfectly deflected for the final time. Slowly, both their eyes widened as they looked at each other.

“We’ve done this before!” they both exclaimed in perfect unison.

“See?” Buffy said, still panting heavily from their fight. “Things like that… They’re just kinda off.”

Spike nodded in disbelief, staring at where he still held her wrist after deflecting her last punch. Abruptly he let go and backed away.

“I’ve been getting that weird feeling a lot,” she explained. “Like the world’s wrong. And whenever I think it, there’s this little voice in my head that tells me to stop. It feels like…” She trailed off, not really wanting to mention their oh-so-embarrassing engagement.

“Red’s spell,” he finished for her.

She nodded. “Can you feel it?” she asked hesitantly.

Slowly he nodded as well, and at that moment the irrational impulse to hug him in victory passed through her head before her common sense nipped it in the bud.

“’S’a spell then?” he asked curiously.

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I was talking to Anya, and she said this thing about alternate universes. How you can change this one little detail in reality, and everything still sorta works out but the whole world’s off…”

“An’ you think the change ‘s in Jonathan,” he said quizzically.

“I don’t know,” she shook her head. “But I just have this instinct that there’s something wrong about him, something I can’t trust.”

He gave her a wicked smirk. “An’ you trust the Big Bad?” he teased, sauntering over to her slowly. “Not very good instincts there, pet,” he whispered against her ear.

She felt the goosebumps rise on her neck at the feel of his icy breath against her skin. However, when she spoke her voice was calm and firm. “I don’t trust you,” she informed him, “but I do know that you may be the only person who will help me. I have no idea how strong the spell – or whatever – is, but it nearly ripped me apart when I fought against it. I don’t know if anyone else could, except for Jonathan…” she mentally slapped herself. “See? I’m still fighting it. But you…” she said, pulling back so she could look into his eyes. “In this world you’re meant to be Jonathan’s enemy. And that’s what I need in an ally right now.”

He frowned and turned away from her to examine the wreckage of his chair. “What makes you think ‘ll help you?” he finally asked.

“Revenge against Jonathan,” she replied matter-of-factly. “It’s not like you can get it any other way.”

Spike’s eyes narrowed at the reference to the chip, but then he shrugged it off. “You got anything better?” he asked, pulling a bottle of bourbon from behind the sarcophagus and taking a deep swig. “Money? Brandy?”

“What?” Buffy blinked in surprise. “Oh, er…um, yeah. I mean, I think I can get money…only, how much money?” she asked nervously.

“Goin’ up against Jonathan,” he said with a wry smile. “That’s tough. _And_ ‘m completely defenseless should somethin’ happen to you, my unwitting ally… Two thou.”

“Two _thousand_?!” she exclaimed, outraged. “Hello, poor college student here! Where am I supposed to get two thousand dollars?”

He shrugged. “A resourceful girl like you? Bet you’ve got plenty o’ people to hit up. Hey, why not Jonathan?” he asked sarcastically. “Oh yeah, that’s right; no more Jonathan help for Becky.”

“You won’t help me,” Buffy rolled her eyes heavenward. “You know something’s wrong, and you _still_ won’t do anything to fix it without money. Why am I even surprised?”

“’ey now,” Spike’s voice lowered to a soothing whisper, and in the blink of an eye he was right behind her, “there are always… _other ways_ you could compensate me.” His hands ran lightly down the outsides of her arms, and he pressed himself up against her back.

“You bastard!” she screamed, her fist shooting out with lightning quick speed and catching him on the jaw right as he leapt backwards.

“Not quite _that_ desperate, are we yet?” he said with a cocky grin.

“That’s it, Spike!” she hissed with rage. “You’re dust!” She pulled a stake from her sleeve and advanced on him.

“Oy, Slayer,” he held up his hands hastily. “Is that any way to treat your new ally?”

Buffy’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What?” she finally blurted out in complete bafflement.

“I don’ like desperate allies,” he shrugged nonchalantly and tested his jaw. “Quite a nasty left hook, by the way.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I. Will. Do. It. Hello?” he waved a hand in front of her face. “You passed my l’il test…for now. I will still be expectin’ whatever money you can spare.” He frowned at the destruction to his crypt. “An’ you owe me a new chair.”

“A h-hundred,” Buffy’s mind was still in a bit of spin at his abrupt change in mood. _Why doesn’t he want to sleep with me?_ one voice whimpered far in the back of her head. She ignored it. The others were all just disappointed that she hadn’t gotten to truly play the virtuous young heroine to his evil seduction.

“Two.”

“One fifty.”

“Plus the chair.”

“Done.”

He gave her a lazy smile. “Well then, _partner_ , what do we do first?”

* * *

Buffy slipped back into bed feeling much relieved. Willow was deeply asleep in the bed across from her, and Buffy had made extra sure to come in as quietly as possible. Luckily, Willow hadn’t stirred even once; Buffy wasn’t quite sure what excuse she could come up with for what she had been doing.

 _I was out with Riley_ , her mind prepared for the question in the morning. _Except then she finds out from Riley that I wasn’t with him last night…_

 _I was out with another man_ , she tried just for the fun of it. _Not Riley. He was fun and exiting and sexy. And if_ you _like Riley so much, why don’t_ you _date him? So, ha!_

That one was fun, but it would never work. The logistics involved with making up an imaginary ‘date’ were just too complicated. Her friends would pounce on her instantly for all sorts of details she couldn’t provide, and then they’d want to meet him…

 _I was out with Spike. We made deep, passionate love for hours on end. Truly, he is the God of Orgasms!_

OK, now she was just getting _loopy_. And ‘the God of Orgasms’? She must have been hanging around Anya _way_ too much lately. Not to mention the fact that she didn’t think she could get through such an outrageous lie without breaking out into hysterical laughter. Still, if she could pull it off, it might be worth the shock value…

 _I had to grab the book I’d put on hold at the library before someone else grabbed it. Then I ran into some people I met during orientation._

Ah, the perfect lie! Vague, plausible, and completely unable to be disproved… If not as fun as most of the others.

Buffy lay back into what she hoped would be a relaxing night’s sleep. She needed to have her head clear for their plan tomorrow. It would work; she knew it would. A little twinge of guilt settled deep in her stomach, but she pushed it aside with greater ease this time. For some reason, the more she took charge of this situation, the less the spell-alternate-universe-of-whatever influenced her. That, if nothing else, was reassuring. And she did indeed drift off into relaxing sleep…if not the kind she anticipated…

 _“Buffy, my little snuggle bunny!” Riley exclaimed with joy, enveloping her in a massive bear hug._

 _“Mmf! Riley!” she protested against his chest, squirming as best she could. “You’re smothering me!”_

 _He didn’t seem to hear her, but instead kept up with the irritating baby talk. “I wuv you, you know that, my Buffy-wuffy.”_

 _She finally managed to push free of him. “Stop treating me like a child!” she screamed. “I’m not stupid!”_

 _“Of course, you’re not, Buffy,” Willow soothed, coming up behind her. “You’re just not really the take-charge type, you know? Here,” she added brightly, pulling one of the famous extra-large chocolate and macadamia nut cookies from behind her back, “have a cookie, and forget all about it.”_

 _“But I can’t forget about it, Will,” she insisted, pleading with her best friend. “There’s something wrong. I have to fix it, make it right again.”_

 _“Ooh, Jonathan!” Willow exclaimed in delight, obviously missing Buffy’s last statement. She ran over to where a crowd of photographers had surrounded the young star._

 _“Riley?” Buffy turned to him desperately._

 _“My hero,” Riley sighed and ran the way Willow had._

 _“You guys have to listen to me!” Buffy exclaimed, trying to pull them away from the edge of the circle._

 _“Of course, we’ll listen to you,” Giles suddenly emerged from the crowd surrounding Jonathan. “Just read from here.” He handed her a book._

 _She flipped it open to the title page and saw that it read ‘Oh, Jonathan!’ “This isn’t the right book,” she protested._

 _“Sure it is, Buff,” Xander said with a wide grin, his arm around Anya._

 _“Please, read it to us,” the ex-vengeance demon smiled at her enthusiastically._

 _“I-I can’t,” Buffy stammered, backing away from the circle of her friends and finding herself backed up against the circle of reporters._

 _“Just read, sweetie,” Riley said with an encouraging smile, “and we can be together again.” He held his hand out to her._

 _Buffy turned and ran, shoving her way through the crowd of photographers frantically. For every one she slipped past, it seemed another two took his place. “Just read it,” she heard the familiar voices drift to her as she pushed her way through the endless throng of bodies that surrounded her on all sides._

 _“I can’t!” she screamed. “I can’t stop! It’s not right!”_

 _And then, with a final burst of speed, she cleared the crowd._

 _“Hey there, Buffy,” Jonathan casually turned to her, several more cameras taking pictures of him as he did so. “You’re not supposed to be here.”_

 _She looked at him and blinked when she saw two different Jonathans superimposed on top of each other. The one wore the ultra-hip Matrix Playboy clothes with the sunglasses, and the other looked…nerdy? He was dressed almost as if he had been cursed with Xander’s hand-me-downs._

 _Both Jonathans held a leash, though. At first whatever was at the end of the leash was blocked from her view. She began to circle round to try to see it._

 _“You don’t need to do this,” Jonathan informed her. “There’s nothing to see here.”_

 _“I think there is,” she replied._

 _The beast at the end of the leash stepped forward, and she saw the monster she’d heard so often described, familiar symbol on its face and all._

 _“Why is it here?” Buffy asked in confusion._

 _“We’re chained together,” Jonathan explained, holding the leash before him._

 _As Buffy watched, it transformed into a set of handcuffs. She slowly backed away, the sight filling her with an indescribable horror…and backed right into the podium on which Jonathan had been speaking._

 _Buffy looked down at his notes. “It’s your book,” she commented, lifting up yet another copy of ‘Oh, Jonathan!’_

 _“Read from it,” he requested._

 _“But there’s another book beneath it,” Buffy protested, picking up the second book in her other hand. It contained the triangular symbol on its cover._

 _“That’s not the right book!” Giles exclaimed, suddenly beside her._

 _She quickly backed away from him._

 _“Buffy, that book is dangerous,” Riley was on the other side of her. He attempted to grab it from her._

 _She twisted aside and ran right into Xander and Anya._

 _“This is getting old,” Anya whined. “Xander, make her stop!”_

 _“Give me the book, Buffy,” Xander extended his hand to her._

 _She turned again, this time to face Willow, a bleeding Tara crying in her arms._

 _“Put down the book, Buffy,” Willow said sternly._

 _“But he did this to Tara!” Buffy protested._

 _Tara stopped crying for a second to look at Buffy as well. “Put down the book,” she said in an eerie, dazed voice._

 _Buffy spun again, this time to face Jonathan and the monster._

 _“Give it to me,” he ordered her. “You can have this book instead.” He held up yet another copy of ‘Oh, Jonathan!’_

 _“No!” Buffy screamed, spinning around and around to see that her friends had her surrounded on all sides. The lights of the cameras flashing blinded her, only allowing her glimpses of the circle of people closing in around her, all illuminated by a stark, white glow. She spun and spun until she felt as if she would fall over from the dizziness._

 _And then she saw it._

 _One patch of black amid the white crowd. Blindly, she reached out to it and felt another hand grasp hers._

 _“Lookin’ for me, pet?” Spike drawled with that infuriating smirk on his face, the black of his clothes standing out even against the lights of the cameras._

 _“I need to get away,” she pleaded. “I have this.” She showed him the book._

 _“Here,” he said, lifting up his arm and holding his black duster out like a cloak. “You can hide under here.”_

 _Without hesitation she dove into the blackness. For a second, it surrounded her, dark and terrifying. And then she saw Spike, the only white in this new land of dark. He stood with his back to her but slowly turned around as she approached._

 _“Why are you naked?” she asked curiously, taking the time to give him a good, long look up and down. She felt her mouth go dry._

 _“How else would you expect me to be under my clothes?” he countered, his own eyes raking hungrily over her body._

 _She looked down at herself as well, blushing when she realized she wasn’t wearing anything, either. “Why am_ I _naked?!” she demanded angrily, looking back up at him._

 _“Well now, tha’s only fair, Slayer,” he said with a lascivious grin. “Have to keep things equal after all.”_

 _She nodded._

 _“Dance?” he extended one hand to her._

 _She bit her lip. “We’ve never danced before,” she said, concerned. “I won’t know the steps.”_

 _“Haven’t we?” He raised his scarred eyebrow. “C’mon, you know the moves…”_

 _Slowly, she took his hand and soon found herself wrapped firmly in his arms, her breasts pressed flush up against his chest. Her feet moved in perfect time with his, instinctively knowing the steps._

 _“Mmm,” she murmured contentedly, letting her head rest against his shoulder. “We’ve done this before.”_

 _“’S we’ve ever done,” he agreed, his lips barely brushing her ear._

 _“Spike…” She turned to look at him, eyes wide._

 _“Buffy,” he whispered, just before his lips met hers._

 _She closed her eyes and allowed herself to become completely absorbed in his kiss. She savored the soft curves of his lips, the gentle force of his tongue, and the coolness of his breath as it played across her lips…_

 _She pulled back and saw that he was smiling – not smirking,_ smiling _._

 _“Do you know what they say about dancing?” he asked, his accent sounding strangely more upper class than usual._

 _“What?” she wondered._

 _She felt something brush against the back of her knees, and by the time she realized it was the edge of a mattress, he’d already laid her back on it and himself on top of her._

 _“A vertical representation of horizontal desires,” he whispered before his lips came down upon hers once again._

Needless to say, _this_ was the relaxing part of the dream.


	3. Holmes And Watson They Ain't

All in all, Buffy was glad that Willow had already gone off to class by the time she woke up. The recent memory of beautiful, pale hands doing the most _wondrous_ things to her would undoubtedly have ruined her concentration…just like they had for the entire afternoon. And she was quite thoroughly sick of it. _This spell is warping my mind_ , her mind insisted repeatedly. _It’s making me want…that._ She shivered; whether from revulsion or something else, she chose not to think about.

However, she couldn’t ignore the fact that what she had had last night was a Slayer dream. Thankfully, the part she was trying to avoid thinking about had occurred entirely _after_ the prophetic part had ended. For that she was eternally grateful.

But, as usual, her dream had made very little sense. What she desperately wanted to do right then was to go tell it to Jonathan so that he could explain it to her. Giving up the ally with the psychology degree and the specialty in dream analysis was a definite minus of her current situation. Hell, right now she’d even go to _Giles_ to see if he could make heads or tails of it. But all those options were out.

 _Stick to the plan_ , she encouraged herself. _Jonathan and the monster were linked in dream. Just keep worrying about the monster, and maybe everything else will just work itself out…yeah, right._

She started well the bell rang and guiltily walked out of the class she hadn’t been paying attention to. Fortunately, it was the last one of the day. All she had to do now was drop off her English Lit. assignment, stop back by the dorm to change into something stealthy, and sneak out to meet Spike.

Why was it that the simplest plans always went awry?

“Buffy!”

Buffy halted dead in her tracks. _Please don’t be Riley!_ she pleaded inwardly. _Please don’t be Riley, please don’t be Riley…_

“Hey, Buffy,” Riley panted, slightly out of breath, as he slowed to walk beside her. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“Just dropping off my paper in Professor Cavitch’s box,” she smiled sweetly and continued to walk on at a brisk pace. _Thank you very much, universe_ , she grumbled internally. _I can’t even ask for_ one _little thing…_

“Professor Cavitch’s box is in there,” Riley pointed to the building she’d just left.

“Right,” she nodded, increasing her pace, “and I just dropped off my paper in there.”

“So whatcha doin’ now?” he inquired.

Buffy cringed inwardly. “Just going home to drop off my books and change,” she began.

“Great!” he said enthusiastically. “We can do something tonight then.”

She slowed to halt and fumbled for the best excuse she could think of. “Sorry,” she finally said, falsely apologetic, “but I have to patrol tonight, which means I have to get all my homework done first…”

“No, you don’t,” he said with a little grin. “After you left last night, we decided that you probably needed a little break. So Jonathan agreed to do your patrol tonight!”

“What?” Buffy said, dumbfounded.

“Surprise!” Riley said cheerfully.

“B-But I really should…” she began weakly.

“You need to _relax_ ,” Riley said, resting his hands on her shoulders and beginning to give them a little massage. “Take the night off for once, and we can do something fun.”

 _Wrong hands to relax to…_ Buffy let out a long sigh. “Homework…” she made one last protest.

“Homework can wait,” he informed her. “I was thinking that maybe we could have some time alone, talk things over… My dad always told me that the best place for a long conversation with a lady’s on a long, moonlit drive in the countryside.”

“That’s…nice,” Buffy forced the smile onto her face, “but I really feel like—”

“You want to go Bronzing instead, that’s cool,” he hastily amended. “I told Xander we’d meet him and Anya there later, anyway.”

“You told them already?” she asked in disbelief.

Riley gave her a sheepish grin. “Well, yeah. I figured since Jonathan got us back together…”

“It’s all right,” Buffy sighed wearily. “I just have to go change first.”

“Great!” he said with a broad grin.

Buffy debated escaping out the window while Riley waited out the hallway “like a gentleman” while she changed. Unfortunately, sooner or later even _he_ would realize that she wasn’t coming out, and then would come the searching parties, and the catching of her in probably the most awkward situation imaginable, and the explanations, and the disbelief, and the mental institutions, and the electroshock treatment…and she was probably exaggerating now, but still her escape plan had been foiled.

No, she would have to escape later. This was a better plan. She would go with Riley to the Bronze, hang out for a little while, and then plead a headache or something. Actually, this was a serious situation. It was time to pull the Big Gun out the excuse bag. In the mirror she prepared her ‘I’ve got _feminine_ problems’ look for use on Riley later – the only sure fire way to send every male in a ten minute radius running away in horror.

Switching into a black blouse and set of pants that looked just dressy enough not to arouse suspicion, she stepped out to meet Riley, her smile now more genuine that she wasn’t condemned for the entire night…

* * *

Buffy yawned. Whatever had possessed to date a guy that thought stories about farm equipment were exciting was beyond her.

“Because sometimes there are accidents if the engine’s not tuned right…” Riley went on and on in the background while Xander nodded in rapt fascination.

She figured it was probably one of those guy things, bonding over carburetors and the latest issue of Playboy…

Anya looked no less bored. “Let’s dance!” she abruptly demanded, blessedly cutting off Riley’s speech. Buffy could have kissed her right then. “We can gyrate erotically in front of dozens of strangers and then sneak off to have sex!” she added perkily.

Xander stuttered and apologized ineffectively before rushing off to follow Anya’s suggestion. That left Buffy alone with Riley.

“Wanna dance?” she asked half-heartedly.

“I don’t dance,” he reminded her.

“Oh…yeah.”

“So…” he began.

“So…” she agreed.

“How ‘bout them Lakers?” he finally asked.

Buffy frowned. “Why do they call them ‘Lakers’ anyway? I mean, there aren’t any lakes in LA!”

“Actually, I know this one,” Riley began proudly. “See, they used to play up in—”

“Uh-oh,” Buffy cut him off before he could go into boring-sports-mode. “Drink’s empty,” she explained, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

“Here, let me get you a refill,” he stood up, taking her glass.

 _God, he’s so predictable…_

“I’ll just go join Xander and Anya while you do that,” she smiled at him, then practically fled when he turned his back.

She circled the dance floor as far away from Riley as she could and prepared the first stage of her attack – the ‘somewhat awkward dancing’.

However, before she go join Xander and Anya on the floor, rough arms grabbed her about the waist and mouth, silencing her as they pulled her back into the shadows.

“Stay quiet now, pet,” a deep voice breathed into her ear, setting her entire body ablaze. He removed the hand from her mouth.

“S-Spike?” she gasped in disbelief. “What are you doing here?” She fought the memory of what hands just like the one on her stomach had done to her in her dream and spun around to face him.

The darkness hung around him several shades blacker than usual, as it had a tendency to do around vampires and other creatures of the night.

“Thought we had a date, Bunny,” he taunted her, his tongue flicking out to lick his upper teeth and giving her a brief sneak preview of just how agile it was.

“It’s _Buffy_ ,” she seethed. “And, no date! We were just going to—”

“You were gonna take me out for a night on the town,” he teased and flashed her a mock pout. “Din’t think you would stand me up, Slayer. ‘Specially since we were betrothed once…”

“What part of ‘never mention that again’ don’t you understand?” she hissed.

“What?” he sniffed unconvincingly. “Ditch a bloke at the altar an’ then don’t ever call? Didn’t know you were so cruel…”

She put a hand to her forehead. Much more of this and she wouldn’t have to _fake_ the headache excuse. “Knock it off, Spike,” she finally said wearily.

“Right then,” he nodded. “We’ll be off then.” He grabbed her arm again.

She shrugged him off. “I can’t,” she protested. “They can’t see us together or they’ll know—”

“Know what?” he raised a scarred eyebrow at her. “That the obvious conclusion is that the two of us ‘re conspirin’ together to overthrow Jonathan by way of a l’il breakin’ and enterin’?”

“They’ll know that _something’s_ up,” she retorted. “Maybe you should do this part alone…”

“Yeah, right,” he said in a clipped voice. “Not that I don’ trust you not to set me up, luv, but…I don’t trust you not to set me up.”

“Fine,” she hissed. “I’m coming. Just let me get out of here _my_ way.”

“Ten minutes,” he gave her a suspicious look.

“Ten minutes,” she agreed. “I’ll meet you there.”

He vanished into the shadows once again.

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. She always found it exceedingly difficult to think when he was near. _Time to make my escape._ She found Riley at the table and walked over to him with a somewhat uncomfortable sliding step. This was stage two, the ‘ouch, I’ve got really bad cramps’ ruse.

“I got your drink,” he handed it to her.

“Thanks,” she gave him a small smile. She promptly sat down, took two sips, and announced that she had to go to the bathroom. Stage three: ‘mysterious bathroom trip.’

She redid her makeup, checked her hair, and hummed a bit as she checked her watch. She had no doubt that Spike would get majorly pissed if she didn’t show up on time, but she needed to stay in here just long enough to convince Riley that she was doing ‘unspeakable feminine things.’

Deciding she’d waited long enough, she strode back over to the table, still limping slightly and with phase four – the ‘I have to go _now_ look’ – firmly in place.

“I’m really sorry, Riley,” she began. “I was having such a nice time.” _Not._ “But I’m not feeling very well. I think I should call it a night.”

“Are you sure?” he frowned for a second and then recognized The Look. She would have sworn he leapt back several inches. “ _Right_ ,” he nodded numbly. “You should go. I’ll see you tomorrow. Or, next week.” He flinched slightly. “Or, later.”

“Bye,” Buffy gave him a final smile and tried not to rush from the Bronze at her elation. _Works every time_ , she thought to herself satisfactorily…

* * *

“ _I don’t like this_ ,” Buffy whispered.

He rolled his eyes.

“ _Jonathan’s going to catch us._ ”

“Look,” Spike said in a perfectly normal speaking voice, “’e’s not here. There’s no one to catch us.”

“ _But anyone walking by could hear us!_ ” she protested, still whispering.

“If you don’ stop chatterin’ away, they will,” he hissed at her.

“But I feel guilty,” Buffy finally sighed, reluctantly taking the volume Spike handed to her, “and how am I supposed to read this in the dark anyway?” She stared into the pitch black where she guessed Spike was.

“Should’ve thought of that before you came,” he countered, reading through the book before him with perfect ease. “Nope,” he shut it and replaced it on the shelf. “Lemme see yours.”

She handed it back to him without complaint.

“An’ this is no good, either,” he commented. “There’s nothing here.”

“Well, he must keep his demon books _somewhere_ ,” Buffy insisted.

Spike nodded, although the effect was lost since she could only see his vague outline in the darkness. “’f he’s tryin’ to keep ‘em hidden,” he began thoughtfully, “then they’re prob’ly in the bedroom.”

“Sounds good,” Buffy agreed. “Let’s go.” She turned around, took a step, and promptly crashed into the end table.

“Bloody hell, woman!” Spike exclaimed, lunging to catch the lamp before it could fall to the floor and break.

“Sorry,” Buffy apologized sheepishly.

“Why don’t we jus’ advertise our presence?” he inquired sarcastically. “Big neon banner: ‘Burglary In Progress’.”

“I _said_ I was sorry,” she hissed. “It’s not _my_ fault we’re bumbling around in the dark because _someone_ refuses to turn on any lights.”

“Again,” he raised one eyebrow at her sardonically, “do you _want_ to get caught?”

“I want to see!” she countered.

“Thought Slayers had night vision,” he scoffed.

“We do,” she insisted. “We have very good night vision…for humans.”

He let out a sigh of exasperation. “Why me?” he asked before grabbing hold of her.

“Eek! Spike!” she squealed in horror when he lifted her up into his arms. “Where are you taking me?!”

“The bedroom,” he informed the squirming load in his arms.

“Pervert!” she screamed and hit him hard in the head.

“Watch it!” he cried out, clutching his nose and dropping her in the process. “That hurt!”

Buffy made an ‘oof’ sound when she hit the floor.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he reluctantly apologized, moving to pick her up again.

She scootched away from him. “Keep your hands off me! I’m not going anywhere with you!”

“Fine,” Spike gave her a long-suffering sigh, “you can jus’ bumble ‘round in the dark tryin’ to find the bedroom by your lonesome.” He proceeded to stomp up the stairs.

“Spike?” she asked curiously, feeling around her and discovering he wasn’t there. “Where are you?”

He stopped, fought back the clenching muscle in his jaw, and climbed back down to where she was. “Right here, luv,” he whispered right against her cheek.

She leapt back a foot, arms flailing wildly. “Don’t _do_ that!” she exclaimed, trying to calm her racing pulse.

“Right then,” he said, obviously annoyed. “So what do we do then? I just stand here watchin’ you wander around blind as a bat ‘cause ‘m not s’posed to touch you? We could make a game out of it. How’re you at Marco Polo?”

“You’re not trying anything sneaky and underhanded?” she asked warily.

“’m _always_ tryin’ somethin’ sneaky an’ underhanded,” he teased, “but no hanky panky in th’ bedroom, honest. You’ve really got to get over this notion that ‘m about to ravish you.”

 _And why aren’t you?_ her mind began that oh-so-bad pouting again. _Don’t you want me? Don’t you remember that spell just as much as I do and spend every waking hour wishing that we had had time at least once to—_

“Slayer? Hello?” The gentle slap to the face pulled her out of the happy-but-forbidden place her mind was in. “Wake up, Slayer!”

“Stop that,” she pushed his hand aside.

“So now what?” he demanded.

“Fine,” she sighed, “you can carry me…”

She really tried not to enjoy the feel of those strong arms holding her once more. _Really_ she did. And the soft, short hairs at the back of his neck where she had wrapped her hands to keep from falling again…

“Here we are,” he set her down unceremoniously. “Don’t move. Don’t knock anythin’ over.”

“I’m not a child,” she sulked.

“Sure, you’re not,” he rolled his eyes, turning to the bookshelf. His brow furrowed. “There’s nothin’ here either…” he began.

In the hallway, a light turned on.

Spike blinked and shifted out of game face at the sudden light.

Slowly, soft footsteps echoed down the hallway, headed straight for the bedroom…

In unison, the two of them dove for the closet, Spike closing the door behind them. The bedroom light turned on just instants after he did so. Buffy gave Spike an irritated look for not detecting that anyone was in the mansion. He shrugged.

“I don’t see it in here,” one of the twins called from beside the bed.

“Check the closet,” the other called from the hall. “It might be in there.”

Buffy and Spike mouthed the word ‘Closet?!’ in perfect time with each other. He quickly nudged her to go to the back of the walk-in closet, and she did so, getting as close to the back wall as she could. He squeezed in as close to her as he could. She held her breath and waited as the closet door opened…

And then something shifted beneath her hand. She fell backwards as the wall slipped out from behind her and grabbed the nearest thing she could find for support. Unfortunately, that happened to be Spike. They both toppled back into the secret compartment that had just opened up just before one of Jonathan’s floozies turned on the closet light.

She blinked when she thought she saw something moving at the very back, but then shook her head. It had seemed as if the wall had just _closed_ up, and she knew that was ridiculous. She continued to search for her sister’s misplaced bathrobe.

Buffy and Spike found themselves in an only slightly less uncomfortable position. The secret room was small, just small enough for the two of them to be squished together face to face. Spike had to lean forward in order not to accidentally trigger the door again…and, well, because he didn’t exactly have any real objections to being pressed up against the Slayer’s hot little body.

She squirmed slightly to get her arms out from in between them and give them more room, and he fought back a moan when she rubbed just the right way over certain regions of his anatomy…

“ _There_ ,” Buffy whispered in his ear when her arms were finally freed. She rested her hands lightly on his shoulders and waited for the danger to pass.

“Are you _sure_ you left it in here?” one of the sisters was demanding.

“Positive,” the other insisted, also standing at the closet door now.

“It was the blue one right?” the first inquired.

“Well, actually it’s more aquamarine than blue…”

Buffy rolled her eyes in irritation at the inane conversation that was keeping them cooped up in here. There were shelves against her back, and they dug into her spine in a particularly unpleasant way. Not to mention the fact that the stake in Spike’s pocket was poking her right between the…

Her eyes widened and she let out an involuntary gasp when he shifted slightly and she felt for certain that that was _not_ a stake in his pants. Who knew he was so _big_?! And, oh god, he was rubbing right up against her…

She began to squirm again, trying to escape the persistent vampire erection that sent little twinges of ecstasy through her clit…even with several layers of clothes separating them.

Spike at least had the decency to look embarrassed and uncomfortable as well, and he tried to shift away, too.

Their efforts were synchronously timed, however, and rather than alleviate the pressure, they managed to grind harder together, unintentionally dry humping each other.

“Oh god,” Buffy whimpered at the sensations that swept over her, heedless of the fact that they might be heard.

Spike put his hand over her mouth to silence her and then gritted his own teeth to prevent himself from crying aloud.

On a mutual signal, they both froze in place, still touching intimately but not making the matter any worse for the time being.

“Is this it?” one of the sisters asked, still searching for the missing bathrobe.

“No,” the other said in exasperation. “The one with the frilly, lacy thing.”

“Oh, _that_ one! I saw it here just now…”

Buffy and Spike stayed stock still, both praying that the sisters would find the damn robe already and let them get out of this awkward position.

“There!” one finally said.

“That’s it!” the other agreed.

With what seemed like agonizing slowness, they turned out the closet light and shut the door. A few seconds later the bedroom lights were off and that door shut as well.

“Are they…gone?” Buffy panted right in Spike’s ear.

He nodded weakly.

“We have to get out,” she declared.

“Can you…reach the…panel?” His unnecessary breathing was heavy as well, and he was trying as hard as he could to block out the scent of Slayer arousal.

“How do you open it?” she felt against the panel with her hands, her face pressed right up against Spike’s chest to reach around him better.

He moaned aloud when her cheek roughly rubbed one of his nipples through his shirt. “Have to get out!” he exclaimed desperately. He felt as though the heat of her were burning him alive.

Buffy felt the heat, too, and was sweating with exertion by now. “Think I’ve…found something.” She reached for it and accidentally ground herself harder against Spike’s erection as she did so. If anything, it swelled up even larger than before.

She let out a little mewling sigh as her stomach got a good feel of just how large he really was. She mentally made note of where he began and ended to take measure later. Hey, if she was going to have fantasy dreams, she might as well have accurate measurements, right…?

A switch clicked beneath her hand. The panel opened, and Spike practically leapt back out of her arms. The place between her legs feeling a bit uncomfortable, she stepped out to join him.

He flicked on the closet light, and one mutual look was all it took to tell each other that they would _never_ refer to this incident again…

“Let’s see what ol’ Johnny’s keepin’ secret, shall we?” Spike said, breaking the awkward silence between them.

Buffy nodded, and they looked at the contents of the hidden room together.

“Books!” she exclaimed. “Bet they’re the ones we’re looking for!”

“I don’t think so,” his brow furrowed, picking up the nearest one. “ ‘The Nitpicker’s Guide for Classic Trekkers’?” he read the title in disbelief.

“ ‘Star Wars’ novels?” Buffy agreed.

“Feel like we’re in the Nerd Central Library,” Spike commented, shutting the panel again.

“Why would Jonathan hide all this stuff?” Buffy wondered. “And does this mean he doesn’t have any demon books?”

“The answer to the first is ‘e doesn’t want anyone to know ‘e’s a geek,” Spike concluded, “and the answer to the second is no, I don’t think so…”


	4. The Jig Is Up

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud, Bobbie, we _‘ave_ to!” Spike exclaimed.

“ _Buffy_ ,” she corrected for the umpteenth time. “And I’m not doing it,” she insisted, arms crossed in front of her chest defensively. “It’s wrong. He’s been like a father to me.”

“Right then,” he retorted sarcastically. “Where’ll we look then? The public library?” He adopted a high pitched twang. “ ‘Excuse me, Mister Librarian, I’m looking for a comprehensive guide to demon markings.’ ” He pinched his nose and went on in a nasal manner. “ ‘Of course, Miss. They’re in section right next to how to make your very own nuclear device at home.’ ”

“Knock it off,” Buffy sighed.

Unfortunately, his hyperbole was on a roll. “Ooh! An’ since we’re givin’ up the hunt and all, we might as well jus’ go back to my place an’…”

Buffy opened her mouth to object.

“…play a nice round o’ Rummy,” he finished, not noticing her reaction.

She snapped her mouth shut before he could notice. Dammit! she chided herself. _Get your mind out of the gutter with the sexy vampire already…_

“’Sides,” he added in a more serious tone, “’s not like I don’ rip off the Watcher twice a week anyway. ‘E’s easily the most oblivious bloke on the planet.”

“You’ve robbed _Giles_?!” Buffy exclaimed in horror. “You…bastard!”

“Oh, now that was jus’ brilliant,” he rolled his eyes. “I can see why you leave all the quippin’ to your precious Jonathan.”

“He’s not mine, and he’s most certainly _not_ precious!” she hissed.

“Good for you,” he said with false enthusiasm. “Way to fight that spell. Go you.”

Buffy ground her teeth together. “You are such an…ass!” she finally exclaimed, too outraged to come up with much else. Instinctively, her hands grabbed hold of the lapels of his duster and she yanked him roughly toward her. “Just. Shut. Up. Spike,” she hissed in a threatening voice, her face only inches from his.

His eyes widened in surprise for a second, and then once again with that odd sense of familiarity.

Buffy was feeling it, too, and her brow furrowed. “Are you getting that strange déjà vu feeling again?” she asked curiously.

He nodded, eyes still wide, and slowly licked his suddenly dry lips.

Buffy’s gaze instantly fell to that luscious lower lip of his, and she calculated it to be only a few inches from her own. _I bet it’s sooo sweet…_ She licked her own lips thoughtfully, debating just how bad the idea that had just popped into her head really was…

“Buffy!” she suddenly heard a cry.

She leapt back from Spike as if she had been burned.

“He been giving you trouble again?” Jonathan demanded, eyes narrowed and crossbow in hand.

Buffy quickly shook her head, purposefully not looking at Spike lest her face flush bright red at what she had been so nearly tempted to do. “He was just spouting off his usual empty threats,” she explained.

Jonathan gestured for Spike to leave, and he wisely did so, vanishing back into the shadows. Buffy tried to suppress the little pang of regret she felt when he left her.

“Why are you out here?” Jonathan demanded. “And all by yourself, too. Didn’t the guys tell you I’d handle patrol tonight?”

“Uh…yeah,” Buffy confessed sheepishly, “but I just thought…you know, since I’d caused so much trouble lately…that maybe a quick little cemetery run wouldn’t hurt…and then I ran into Spike, and he wouldn’t go away, and…” She trailed off.

Jonathan gave her a smile. “It’s OK,” he assured her. “You should just be more careful – especially about Spike. He’s still dangerous, even with the chip. I don’t think you’re ready to handle him on your own yet.”

 _I was handling him just fine, thank you very much_ , she thought inwardly, but she kept up the helpless little girl act that would get her out of this unscathed. “I know,” she said, with eyes wide. “Thank you _so_ much for helping me out with him. I was _way_ in over my head.” _Not_ , one voice inside her added. _So_ , another voice – one that was less than pleased with her attempt to kiss him – countered.

“No problem,” Jonathan shrugged it off. “It’s what I do. Do you want me to walk you home?”

She laughed nervously. “I think I can handle _that_ one my own,” she quickly insisted.

“Watch your back,” Jonathan warned, concerned, as he headed off of his patrol.

“You, too,” Buffy attempted to sound cheerful. She waited until she was sure he was gone before she spoke again. “Spike?” she asked hopefully, looking around.

“Here, luv,” said a voice right behind her.

She let out a little screech of surprise and turned around to face him with an irritated expression on her face. “How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?” she demanded.

“Can tell me ‘s many times ‘s you want, pet,” he gave her a wry smirk. “Don’ take orders from you.”

“Yes, you do,” she insisted. “That’s the deal. You are supposed to do _exactly_ as I say.”

“No,” he countered, “’m s’posed to help you fight Jonathan, which ‘s exactly what ‘m doin’. There’s no clause _I_ saw that says you’re the boss o’ me now.”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “Let’s just go get this over with,” she finally decided, “before Jonathan catches us again.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed, indicating she should take the lead.

She rolled her eyes, and together they made their way to Giles’ apartment.

They were unaware of the figure that watched them from the shadows…

* * *

“ _What are you doing?_ ” Buffy whispered.

“ _Reading a book_ ,” he whispered back.

“ _Is that_ all _you’re doing?_ ” she demanded.

“ _’Course_ ,” he insisted while slipping a bottle of Scotch into his jacket pocket.

She squinted in the darkness. “ _Well?_ ” she finally said impatiently.

“ _’m lookin’_ ,” he insisted. “ _Don’ get your knickers in a twist…_ ”

Her knickers, unfortunately, felt exactly as if they were in a twist at the moment. Mostly it was from guilt at burglarizing Giles’ apartment in the middle of the night with a vampire. She had absolutely no idea what she could say in her defense if they got caught. And the scene in her dream in which Giles had caught her right before she grabbed the right book invaded her mind constantly, making her even more edgy than she had been while breaking into Jonathan’s place.

However, not even she could deny that some of it was due to the fact that her panties had been drenched through earlier and now had become distinctly sticky and uncomfortable. She shifted slightly, trying to alleviate some of the tension between her thighs and _not_ think about how the perfect solution to that tension was less than ten feet away, searching through Giles’ bookshelves.

“ _This one looks promisin’_ ,” he finally whispered, handing the book to her. “ _Let me try to find a couple more, though…_ ”

Buffy heard a muffled voice and a creak upstairs and instantly lunged at Spike, tackling him to ground and hiding them behind the couch from anyone who might casually look in the living area.

Beneath her, Spike made a slight ‘oof’ing noise and this strange deflating sound.

Buffy attempted to slow her wild panting at being so tightly pressed up against him once more and waited for Giles to come downstairs. And waited. And waited.

“ _Christ, Slayer!_ ” Spike hissed in annoyance, shoving her off of him and brushing himself off as he rose to his feet. “ _Overreact much?_ ”

“ _B-But I heard…_ ” Buffy insisted, trying not to moan out in protest when her body was separated from the wonderful feel of taut muscles beneath cool leather.

Spike rolled his eyes. “ _Watcher talks in ‘is sleep sometimes_ ,” he practically growled, feeling cautiously at the bottle of Scotch he’d nicked and breathing a sigh of relief when it hadn’t broken in his pocket. A wicked leer crossed over his face. “ _I didn’t know better, I’d say you_ liked _jumpin’ my bones every chance you can get…_ ”

Buffy’s face turned bright red with embarrassment at being caught, and she hoped to god he couldn’t make the color out in the dark.

“ _As if!_ ” she finally replied in an irritated whisper.

He chuckled and returned to his work, leafing through several books he’d pulled from the shelves.

Buffy scowled at the dark outline of his back as best she could to let him know just how much she _hadn’t_ enjoyed being pressed up against him again.

Her mind, however, was doing a little happy dance. _Did you get a feel of his abs?_ her right hand was saying excitedly. _Nope_ , her left replied, _but I got a quick grasp of ass… Very nice._ Her panties were starting to feel sticky again.

Really, this schoolgirl crush on Spike had to end absolutely right now! _Evil vampire, remember?_ the responsible part of her pointed out. _Jonathan’s former archenemy? Killed two Slayers before?_

 _But, oh, so beautiful…_

“ _An’ these two should do it_ ,” he finally said, handing her two more books.

She squinted in the dark, trying to make sure that he didn’t pilfer anything else of Giles’, while he put everything back the way he had found it.

Finally, he finished, and a cool hand pressed into the small of her back, indicating that they should leave. Buffy headed out just slowly enough that the glorious touch to her back never stopped, and he seemed content to leave his hand there as they escaped the apartment together.

“What now?” Buffy asked in her regular speaking voice now that the immediate danger was over.

He shrugged. “We got books. We look through them…an’ what happened to ‘oh, I’m in charge’,” he said in a squeaky little voice, “anyway?”

Her eyes narrowed at him. “I was just wondering if you _thought_ we needed to do any more…” Her arms flailed around wildly as she tried to come up with an appropriate term.

“Thievin’?” he teased her. “Robbery? Burglary? Petty crime?”

“Stop it,” she scowled.

He flashed her a cocky grin. “Make me,” he challenged.

“Oh, I’ll make you…” Her hands clenched in fists. “I’ll make you…good.” She smacked her head at the lameness of that threat before he even got a chance to comment on it.

“I think hittin’ me was the idea there, Brady,” he taunted her, “not hittin’ yourself.”

“ _Buffy!_ ”

He shrugged. “Whatever.”

“We need someplace where we won’t be disturbed to do research,” she said thoughtfully, ignoring their most recent exchange. “Let’s go back to your crypt.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Well, since you’re the one askin’, Slayer…”

“Ugh!” her face contorted in disgust – more because she’d missed the secondary meaning of that statement than because the idea wasn’t appealing to her. “I meant to work.”

“That’s what you call it then,” he winked.

“Argh!” she exclaimed, clutching at her hair. “Is everything that comes out of your mouth a sexual innuendo?!” she demanded.

“No,” he said with a delighted smile, “it seems everythin’ that comes out of _your_ mouth is a sexual innuendo.”

Buffy let out a sigh of exasperation. “Let’s just go search for tattoos…” she began and then ‘eep’ed when she realized she’d done it again. _What had that lecture in Professor Walsh’s class on Freudian slips been about again?_ Mortified, she quickly walked ahead of him, practically running into the crypt.

He followed her with a satisfied smile and shut the door behind the two of them.

The figure in the shadows watched the crypt for a few minutes, seeing a few candles light up in the windows. Once it was clear that he two weren’t coming out any time soon, he finally stepped out into the open.

Riley’s eyes narrowed and his hands clenched into fists. When Jonathan had first told him to keep a close eye of Buffy, he’d thought his friend had just been overreacting. After all, Buffy had been under a lot of stress lately with her papers and the slaying…

But now he knew for certain that there was something dreadfully wrong with her. He’d watched nearly flabbergasted all night as she chatted and laughed and hung out and _flirted_ with that…that… _vampire_! She’d actually helped him out on his usual criminal activities. And now she’d gone back to _his_ place to spend the night!

Riley debated busting into the crypt right then and there and staking that pathetic loser before he could even get a chance to touch his Buffy. But that would be contrary to Jonathan’s orders from when they’d met up in the cemetery.

“Just keep an eye on them and don’t interfere,” he’d said. “And report everything to me in the morning.”

And if there was one thing Riley knew how to do perfectly, it was how to follow orders.

Nevertheless, he promised himself that when this was over and his Buffy was back to normal, he’d make that undead scum suffer before he finally sent him to hell…

* * *

Buffy sat on the stone sarcophagus beside Spike, trying unsuccessfully to find a comfortable position while searching through the symbols in her text. Spike, of course, didn’t seem to find the cold stone uncomfortable in the least. She gave him a dirty look that was completely lost since he was too busy searching through his own book.

She shifted again and finally couldn’t take it anymore. “How can you possibly be comfortable?” she finally exclaimed. “My spine’s going numb!”

He looked up at her as if surprised to find that he wasn’t alone. “’d offer you the chair,” he said with a slight scowl, “but it seems _someone_ destroyed it… Who was that again?” he asked sarcastically. “Oh yeah, _you_.”

“Well, I can’t possibly read like this,” she insisted, crossing her arms in front of her.

“Are you always so whiny?” he demanded.

“ _Whiny_?” she exclaimed in disgust. “ _Whiny_?!”

He gave her a lascivious leer and ran one hand up and down his thigh enticingly. “If you’re lookin’ for an invite to sit in my lap, luv, why din’t you jus’ say so?” he teased.

Her face turned bright red at just how appealing that offer sounded, and she quickly turned back to her book. “In your _dreams_ ,” she grumbled under her breath, hopelessly embarrassed.

He shook his head and flipped the page in his book to find… “Oy, Slayer,” he called her over. “This it?”

She scootched over to him and looked at the page from over his shoulder. “Yes!” she exclaimed in pure, unadulterated delight.

Outside, Riley heard her cry and flinched.

“What does it mean?” Buffy asked Spike, their thighs brushing lightly as they sat side by side and read.

He frowned. “’S from a spell,” he reread the section carefully. “’pparently, ‘s an enhancin’ spell…”

“Enhancing spell,” Buffy scowled. “What does _that_ mean?”

“Well, s’pose you wanted to make somethin’ better. Your car, or a spell, or a racehorse, or whatnot,” he explained. “This spell does it.”

Buffy nodded slowly. “So Jonathan enhanced…himself?”

“Looks like it,” Spike agreed. “The symbol appears on whatever’s been enhanced.”

“What about to monster then?” Buffy wondered.

“’S a side effect,” Spike pointed to the passage. “All the nastiness that got cut out o’ your good friend Jonathan went into the monster.”

“That’s why he’s trying to defend it,” Buffy nodded slowly. “He doesn’t want us to find out he cast the spell…”

“Not jus’ that,” Spike commented. “Destroyin’ the monster reverses the spell.”

She smiled. “Guess we know what our next move is then. Good work…partner.”

He gave her a shy smile as well. “Same time tomorrow?” he inquired.

She nodded. “You know, I never would’ve believed it,” she began, “but we make one helluva team…”

He shrugged and looked away, seeming slightly… _embarrassed?_ of all things. His reaction filled Buffy’s stomach with the strange, warm feeling.

“Good night, Spike,” she said softly, rising to her feet.

He rose as well, and for an instant their bodies were only a few millimeters apart. “’Night, Betsy,” he agreed before stepping away.

Her body visibly slumped when he moved away. “That’s _Buffy_ ,” she said in exasperation before leaving his crypt.

Riley had long gone by then and didn’t see her leave.


	5. The Somewhat Mediocre Escape

Spike lay back on the stone sarcophagus in the center of his crypt, hands clasped behind his head, and let out a contented little sigh. It was a typical morning in the unlife of a vampire, spent alternately snoozing and lazing about in the cool darkness. But there was one thing about this morning that was _far_ from typical…

He closed his eyes and once again played a few select scenes from the night before in his head. His lips curled into a smile at the thought of the Slayer grinding herself up against him in the closet and the way her lips had been so close to brushing against his…

 _Slayer wants me_ , he repeated to himself for the umpteenth time, the thought still bringing a smile to his face every time.

When he first realized it, it had shocked him to no end – that sweet, musky smell drifting up to him every time he came near, letting him know that her body was ready and waiting for him and him alone…

Of this last part, he was certain. She’d been dry as a bone on her date with Captain Cardboard until he’d shown up and gotten her juices flowing again…

“Pretty little Slayer,” he whispered in his half-asleep state, rolling over onto his side. One of his hands came to rest at the waistband of his jeans, and he reached down to give Spike Jr. a reassuring pat. The traitor between his legs had been acting up more than usual recently, especially in that closet… “Slayer,” he moaned softly, his hand unconsciously gripping himself tighter through the fabric of his jeans.

It was twisted, of course. Sick. That the Slayer, of all people, should want _him_ …well, he’d always known he was a handsome devil. The poor thing probably just couldn’t help herself. But that _he_ was starting to feel it as well… That was just wrong. She was the _Slayer_ , for crying out loud! Perhaps the only woman in the world that he should want his fangs in but not his cock. Although, in all fairness, it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought of having a Slayer that way before. That feisty girl in New York…

His jeans were chaffing in a horribly uncomfortable way by now. With deft fingers, he pulled down his zipper and unfastened the button, allowing himself to spring free into his hand. He gripped his swollen cock tightly, molding his hand so that it rubbed against every pulsing nerve.

His eyes shut tighter as he pictured the fiery little blonde doing this – lying beside him, her pert little breasts bared and ripe for the tasting, and her tiny hand gripping him with every bit of strength she had, jerking him off… She would whispering dirty things into his ear as she did so: how she tried to be a good girl but it was so hard when evil was so tempting, and how only vampires could get her all tight and hot, and how she couldn’t come without an icy cock buried deep within her and fangs piercing her soft, supple flesh.

He groaned as the dream image beside him sensuously crawled down his body to take him into her mouth. She slurped at him as if she had been walking through the desert for hours and he was a pristine fountain, and she drank down all the cool nectar he squirted into her eager throat.

With a contented mumble he opened his eyes to see that he’d shot his load all over the lid of the sarcophagus. Not good. Very messy, in fact. He groaned and debated getting up to clean up the mess. But it wasn’t really all that necessary yet as long as he didn’t roll over onto the white puddle…

It was all the excuse he needed to keep up the fantasy. The savory little morsel was now pulling him on top of her, whimpering about how she would die if she didn’t get a good, hard fucking right now. He was more than happy to oblige, both in this dream world and in reality.

Unconsciously, he shifted over onto his stomach so that his once again firm erection ground down against the cold stone lid beneath him. Of course, in his mind’s eye, it was a raging inferno he plunged into. The Slayer’s body was hot and wet and firm and soft and tight…so very tight. She felt like a virgin, but the way she rubbed herself up against him and clawed and scratched…better than any pro he’d ever had.

It was the kind of dream he always wished would last forever, but in his half-asleep state, it was always over much too quickly. “Buffy…” he moaned raggedly and squirted out onto the stone slab once more…then swore when he realized that there was now nowhere to lie down until he cleaned the coffin lid up.

With a weary sigh, he propped himself up and made his way over to the bucket of water and rag he used for just this purpose. It was an unfortunate side effect to not having anything tender and female to come inside of.

He briefly considered picking up another vamp floozy like Harm just so he would have something to take a poke at when he felt like it. Sure, he was down and out with the demon crowd as of late, but several young females had still made it more than clear that they wouldn’t mind taking a vampire of his strength and _experience_ into their beds. Unfortunately, meaningless sex quickly lost its charm with him. It really was a pity…

He wiped up the spill, still yawning and making that humiliating purring sound that he never seemed to be able to suppress after sex. When his makeshift bed had been cleaned once again to his satisfaction, he tossed the rag back over beside the bucket and moved to lie down once more…

He was interrupted by the sound of a crossbow bolt being slipped into place. His head jerked up in surprise.

“Oh, yeah, you’ve got class,” Riley said with a nasty frown, the deadly weapon in his hands aimed straight at Spike’s heart. “I can see why she likes you…”

“That sarcasm, mate?” Spike tried for cocky since…well, since cocky was the only mode he had to deal with a potentially life or death situation now that he had this damn chip in his head. “Hard to tell with you, given that the bland, white bread voice an’ the bland, white bread face never change.”

Riley’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what you’ve done to her,” he threatened, “but I’m going to make you pay.”

“See now?” Spike raised one scarred eyebrow. “That s’posed to be anger? Menacin’? Impossible to tell. Maybe you should practice movin’ your facial muscles a bit in th’ mirror before tryin’ to talk to other people.”

Riley’s posture became more rigid, if that was possible. “Jonathan’s going to find out what you did,” he informed the vampire. “And then he’s going to make Buffy mine again. And then I get to kill you, and we go off together happily ever after.”

Spike couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Hate to break it to you, Major Bringdown, but that sweet l’il girl of yours? She’s got the hots for me all on her own. Din’t do a thing to her ‘cept offer somethin’ a bit less…” He looked Riley up and down, appraising him, and then shook his head when the Initiative agent came up short. “… _vanilla_.”

Riley re-cocked the crossbow, reminding Spike exactly who was in charge of this situation. “I should kill you right now,” he insisted. “You used some spell or _something_. You took advantage of her. You raped her.”

Spike gave him an incredulous look. “Oh, now, look who’s gotten too big for ‘is britches.” He cast an eye down to that region of Riley’s anatomy in a way that made all uptight, insecure men squirm – and Riley squirmed with the best of them. “Or not,” he added slyly, dropping his hand to the waist of his jeans where he still hung out of his jeans proudly.

Riley flinched and refused to look down. “Get dressed,” he ordered. “Jonathan’ll be here soon.”

“Ooh, a threesome,” Spike said with a delighted smile, “din’t know you were into that kinda thing…”

He tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up, point proven. If Riley had been able to challenge him in that department, he certainly would have since even a lummox like this wooden soldier knew how much size really mattered. It was nice to know that the feels the Slayer had been coping off of him had revealed a treat larger than any she’d ever had before…

Riley’s lips attempted to curl in disgust. They failed miserably, however, just like they had failed to convey sarcasm or anger. “Just shut up,” he hissed, his finger twitching on the trigger. “A filthy animal like you doesn’t get a chance to speak.”

Spike yawned nonchalantly and lay back down on the sarcophagus. “Jus’ wake me when Johnny gets here,” he said in as trivializing and condescending a tone as he could manage. “Hate to miss out on the _real_ action…”

Riley ground his teeth together in blind fury, but managed to still his itchy trigger finger. Jonathan needed this worthless creature alive so that he could reverse the spell or thrall or whatever was on Buffy. Poised in a state of constant readiness, he watched as the vampire seemingly slept the next few minutes away, while Riley waited tense as all hell.

“Y’know what your problem is, White Bread?” Spike finally asked, rolling over to face Riley with a wicked gleam in his eye.

“Something tells me I’m about to find out,” Riley countered irately.

Spike rolled his eyes. “You’re so bleedin’ militaristic,” he retorted. “ ‘Yes, sir’, ‘yes, ma’am’, ‘would you like me to lick your boots, sir?’ Hell, you prob’ly had to read the soddin’ manual before you had a go with your l’il Slayer.”

“Go on.” Riley raised the crossbow. “I dare you.”

Spike scoffed. “You won’t do it,” he insisted. “That would be ‘gainst your orders, an’ heaven forbid you should ever think for yourself…”

“You are _this_ close.” Riley lined up his shot.

“This close to what?” Spike demanded. “More empty threats? You gonna try to bully me around a bit more? Maybe knock me around a bit? That’ll make you feel all tough an’ manly again, ‘d wager – beatin’ up on someone who can’t hit back.”

“Shut—” Riley began just as the crypt door opened up.

Just as Spike had planned it, his enhanced hearing having alerted him long ago of the two voices approaching.

“But this is just Spike’s—” Buffy was in the process of saying.

Jonathan shut the door behind the two of them, gave Riley a quick nod of approval at how he had the Spike situation well in hand, and turned back to Buffy. “I lied,” he informed her matter-of-factly. “There is no new Master in town.”

“What…?” Buffy looked to Spike confusedly, then saw what Riley was doing. “Riley, put that down,” she said with sudden alarm.

“He did a real good job brainwashing you, didn’t he?” Riley retorted coldly. “It’s all right, though. We’ll break his thrall in no time.”

Buffy frowned. “What are you talking about?” she demanded, still confused.

“I had Riley follow you last night,” Jonathan began. “I was a bit worried about how you’ve been acting lately.”

Buffy’s stomach twisted into a knot. They knew… She and Spike had been trying to be so careful, but now Jonathan knew they were onto his little spell, and he was going to…what exactly?

“How could you, Buffy?” Riley demanded in a voice full of hurt. “I know he’s got you under a spell or something, but still…”

“You know about the spell?” Buffy said in disbelief, misconstruing his meaning entirely.

Riley nodded solemnly. “Don’t you worry,” he told her. “We’ll find a way to undo it, and then everything will be back to normal again.”

Buffy frowned. “That’s what we’ve been trying to do.” She looked to Spike, trying to figure out exactly what it was she was missing.

He gave her a warning look not to say any more, and – if anything – it made her more puzzled than before.

Riley was confused now, too. “Why would Spike try to remove a spell he cast?” he asked Jonathan.

 _This_ caused Buffy’s head to whip around to look at him. _Aha!_ Her mind came to a revelation. _Spell being discussed is not Jonathan’s enhancement spell. Which explains why Spike wants me to stop referring to said enhancement spell. Which doesn’t explain in the slightest what spell Riley’s talking about…_

“What spell are you talking about, Riley?” Buffy decided to go for direct, as always.

“The one _he_ ,” Riley threw Spike a disgusted look, “cast on you to make you sleep with him.”

“ _What_?!” The volume of her exclamation made Spike flinch. She gave him an apologetic look. “ _What_?!” she repeated a bit quieter but still in complete and utter disbelief.

“I saw you,” Riley informed her. “Last night. He made you help him break into people’s houses, and then he made you…” He gulped. “I-I… _heard_ the two of you…”

“Heard us what?” she retorted sarcastically. “Argue about how hard the sarcophagus is?”

Riley blanched and looked at the structure Spike was still seated on with newfound horror. “I don’t need to know the details,” he said, his voice shaking slightly.

“ _Details_?!” Buffy was getting more and more pissed off by the second. “No-thing. Hap-pened,” she said in slow monotone.

“You did break into my house, though,” Jonathan took charge of the conversation again. “And into Giles’ as well.”

Buffy gave Spike a nervous glance. He shrugged, then looked down in an odd gesture that almost looked like it was supposed to be sheepish… Except she’d seen sheepish-Spike before, and he looked totally different.

Jonathan and Riley seemed to take the look at face value, at least. Buffy stuttered for a response to Jonathan’s accusation while her eyes found what Spike had been subtly indicating to her. He nodded slowly when her eyes alighted on the trapdoor and then back to him.

“Th-There’s a perfectly good explanation for that,” she began, distracting both Jonathan and Riley’s attention while Spike slowly inched off of the sarcophagus and snuck up on Riley. She had absolutely no idea what he planned to do with the chip in his head, but she bought him as much time as she could. “You see,” she flashed them a bright smile, “there was this spell that I wanted to do. But it was supposed to be this big surprise. So big that I couldn’t tell any of you about it. But I could tell Spike because he wasn’t any of you. So anyway, I needed to find the spell in a book. But I couldn’t tell any of you, so I had to look through your magic books while you weren’t there…”

She was dimly aware of the fact that her excuse made no sense as she babbled on and on. Fortunately, it had given Spike time to sneak up right beside Riley and reactivate the safety catch on the crossbow with the fluid grace of a skilled pickpocket.

He gave her a little nod, and through some form of psychic communication she instantly understood what his plan was exactly.

She began walking toward Jonathan, a pleading tone in her voice as she continued. “It wasn’t a bad spell, honest,” she implored him, “and I would tell you what it is, but it’s a really big secret and—”

Spike gave her the go ahead nod.

She shrieked and pointed over her shoulder at him.

Jonathan and Riley both spun around to face him, Riley’s finger pulling the trigger on the crossbow and discovering that it had been disabled.

In the meantime, while Jonathan’s back was turned, Buffy brought her heel down hard on his collarbone, sending him slumping to the floor, unconscious.

Riley spun back around to face her, this time his crossbow set to kill, but Spike’s foot caught his ankle, tripping him. He sprawled forward and landed right on top of Jonathan with a loud ‘oof’.

Buffy grabbed the crossbow from him and dashed over to where Spike had raised the trapdoor. Trusting him instinctively, she dove into the blackened opening, hearing the vampire follow her a few seconds later.

“Hold the door up,” Spike ordered her, listening to the sounds of Jonathan and Riley swearing as they untangled themselves. “’ll get somethin’ to prop it shut.”

Buffy did as he asked, poised on the ladder underneath the trapdoor and pushing upward as hard as she could in order to counteract the downwards pushes from above.

After a couple of minutes, it occurred to Buffy that if Spike was planning on setting her up, he’d just done an absolutely perfect job of it. She was pretty much trapped, with no way to escape without her pursuers getting in. _Boy, you sure can pick ‘em_ , the disillusioned part of her mind spoke up. _Boyfriend #4 ditches you to save himself while Boyfriend #3 breaks in the door to kill you…_

 _Spike’s a boyfriend?_ Another nervous, vulnerable voice asked. That was a question that was much better explored later. Right now, she had to determine just how screwed she really was.

“Spike?” she asked anxiously into the darkness.

“Just a second, luv.” The familiar, rough British tones sounded like music to her ears. “’ve almost got it…there!”

Buffy saw something vaguely move beside her and squinted to see a large wooden beam being propped up against the trapdoor.

“That holdin’, pet?” Spike asked from where he’d anchored the other end between two boulders.

Buffy cautiously let go. Jonathan and Riley continued to bang on the trapdoor, but it didn’t budge. “It’s good,” she informed him, scampering down the ladder. “Now, please tell me there’s another way out of here…” she said wearily.

She felt cool fingers intertwine with hers, and she held on to him tightly, allowing him to guide her through what seemed like an endless maze of twisting corridors.

“Where are we going?” she finally asked breathlessly after all she’d known for quite some time were the blackness and the strong hand that led her.

“Far away from there ‘s we can get,” he responded.

“Can we stop for a second?” she requested.

He did as she asked so abruptly that she crashed right into his back. “Sorry,” she said, regretting the feel of well-worn leather beneath her cheek the instant she pulled away.

“Why’re we stoppin’ then?” he asked casually, sneaking a look at their locked hands and smiling only because he knew that she wouldn’t be able to see it.

“We need a plan,” Buffy explained, “and I need a bit of a rest.”

“All right then.” He gave her a gentle pull over to the wall and sat down against it.

She followed his example and sat beside him, her shoulders and hips lightly touching his. Although it was no longer necessary, their hands remained firmly linked, neither having any real desire to break contact.

Spike listened to her gasping breaths in the darkness and fought back the swelling desire within him at the feel of her burning flesh nestled right up against him. He could tell that the Slayer had absolutely no idea how she was effecting him, and it was driving him absolutely crazy…

Buffy’s breath slowed gradually, and the presence of the vampire so close beside her comforted her in all sorts of inappropriate ways she really didn’t want to think about at the moment. In fact, she was strangely calm considering the fact that Riley was probably thoroughly convinced both that she was sleeping with Spike and that she was now evil.

The second part was entirely Jonathan’s spell’s influence, and the first… _Well, you’ve already covered heresy by thought and heresy by word_ , a very Faith-like voice spoke up. _All you’ve got left is heresy by deed… And since you’ve already been found guilty no matter what you’ve actually done…have a little fun for once!_

Buffy blushed and looked away from the vampire beside her.

“Slayer?” he asked softly.

“Mmm?” she turned back to face him.

“What do we do now?” he wondered.

Buffy sighed and felt very, very tired. For a second she contemplated resting her head on his shoulder and having herself a nice nap. Her pleasant dreams of the morning had been rudely interrupted when Jonathan had woken her up under the pretense of slaying. She discarded the idea, however. He hadn’t really given her any sign that he was up for anything much more than a quick fuck…and he hadn’t even given her many signs of _that_ one.

Apparently, her conscious mind found the fact that his hand his held hers and his thumb was tracing patterns into her palm so soothing and comforting and _natural_ that it was ignored just as her breathing and heartbeat were.

“We have to find somewhere to go,” she finally began. “Somewhere that’ll be safe until nightfall. Then, we have to find the monster and kill it. The universe will revert back to normal then, and maybe things won’t look so grim…”

She shivered. She jerked in surprise when his hand released hers and nearly complained before his arm ever-so-cautiously wrapped itself around her shoulders, drawing her close.

“Cold, luv?” he whispered right in her ear.

“Mmm-hmm,” she murmured contentedly, her head finally pillowed against his shoulder.

He managed to slip off his duster without disturbing her and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders. She gave him a grateful little smile, knowing that he would be able to see it even in the dark.

Without thinking, he brushed aside a lock of hair that had fallen into her face and stopped in mid-motion when he realized what he was doing.

 _Slayer’s just an ally to get back at Jonathan, remember mate?_ He chided himself. _Maybe you take her for one quick ride just to test her out. You do_ not _start getting that strange, warm feeling in your chest that makes you feel as if your heart’s beating again…_

But that voice in his head seemed so faraway and distant, and the heat beneath his breast felt so warm and real. What had originally begun as an amused pass at her quickly transformed into something much different.

She was nestled back against his chest now, breathing in the intoxicating aroma that was Spike and enjoying the feeling of lazy contentment that settled over her.

“I’m sleepy,” she yawned.

“I know a place,” he said softly. “Close by. Harm used to live there, but then she ditched town, an’…’s open now.”

“Let’s go,” Buffy agreed, reluctantly pulling away from him and sitting up. “I think we could both use a little rest after this morning’s wake up call.”

He caught her about the waist and lifted her onto her feet. Bloody hell, she was hot! And oh-so-sexy in his black leather…

“Spike?” she whispered huskily, her lips only a few inches from his and her hands resting lightly on his chest.

“W-We should go,” he said, a slight tremor in his voice. His caught her hand in his once again. “C’mon.”

A bit disappointed, Buffy followed, still clinging tightly to his hand…


	6. Did A Stupid Thing...

“We have to find them!” Riley insisted. “Who knows what kind of danger Buffy is in?”

“I still can’t believe it,” Willow said, stunned. “Our Buffy…”

“She appears to be under some sort of thrall,” Jonathan quickly reassured her. “It isn’t Buffy that’s doing all this.”

“Funny,” Anya commented, turning over to the next page of the special ‘Jonathan Issue’ of Sport’s Illustrated.

“What was that?” Xander turned to her.

She shrugged and didn’t even bother to look up. “It’s just if Spike had a thrall all this time, why didn’t he use it before…?”

* * *

With a soft sigh, Buffy turned over and sleepily reached out to find nothing but an empty mattress beside her. She frowned and sat up, quickly scanning the subterranean cave. For a second, she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten here from her bedroom…and then the events of the night before came back to her.

That would be why she was alone in bed, as well. The real Spike was stretched out on an old couch across the room from her.

She blushed and smiled at the visions that had delighted her dreams. He had been so very, very beautiful… She only wished that one day she’d get to verify her suspicions. He didn’t even have the decency to remove his shirt when he went to bed…

She let out a stifled yawn and looked around the lair in a vain search for a clock. She mentally cursed herself for about the ten thousandth time for not wearing a watch. After a while, it occurred to her that she had no clue whether Spike wore a watch and…well, who was she kidding? She’d been looking for an excuse to go over to him anyway.

She froze for a minute, watching him sleep, and took a deep gulp of air. She had never seen him like this before, so calm and peaceful and innocent looking… A slight smile played upon the edges of his lips, and for once it didn’t look sarcastic or irritating. He just looked…happy. Buffy didn’t think she’d ever seen that expression on his face before, but – if anything – it made him seem more tempting than before…

He didn’t stir when she slowly pulled back the blanket that covered him. He had at least removed his duster, allowing her to examine the strong muscles of his forearms…and determine that he wasn’t wearing a watch on his right wrist. His left was trapped between his thigh and the back of the couch.

Tentatively, she reached out to touch his concealed arm gently. One nervous glance to his face told her that she hadn’t awakened him. He didn’t react in any way when she pulled her arm free. _Damn, no watch on that wrist either!_ That was the deluded part of her brain that was still convinced she was doing this purely to find out what time it was. It was obviously another part that guided her hand, tracing the powerful lines of the curves of his muscles.

So absorbed was she in this task that she practically jumped out of her skin when he muttered in his sleep and rolled over onto his side…unconsciously grabbing hold of her hand in his and pulling her along with him.

 _Just great!_ Buffy’s mind chided her. _Now look what you’ve gotten yourself into…_

Cautiously, she tried to extricate herself. Not that she minded the handholding so much… But she was forced to prop herself up somewhat awkwardly with her free arm or else she would collapse onto his back. And that would _certainly_ wake him up. And then she’d have to explain how her hand had gotten trapped between his chest and the couch back – not an easy thing to do.

Unfortunately, the grip on her wrist was pure iron. She couldn’t budge an inch.

Buffy sighed in frustration. Well, she did technically have an excuse for how she’d gotten stuck like this…

“Spike,” she said softly, nudging his shoulder. “C’mon, Spike, wake up.”

No response.

She frowned and shoved at his shoulder a little harder. “Spike!” she persisted.

Still nothing.

The frown became a scowl. No more Miss Nice Slayer. “Spike!” she repeated before blowing on his ear.

He giggled slightly in his sleep and rubbed his ear against his shoulder several times to remove the tickling sensation.

Encouraged, Buffy kept this new tactic up. She blew on the base of his neck this time, right into the short, silky hairs there.

A muttered curse, and his free hand swatted at the back of his neck.

“Spike, wake up,” she repeated, this time tickling him lightly under the arm.

He squirmed a bit in his sleep, trying to get away from her, before he finally flipped over onto his stomach…unfortunately, pulling her with him.

Buffy’s eyes widened when she suddenly found herself lying across his back, the firm power of the body beneath her all too apparent. Her hand was now hopelessly trapped beneath his chest, and she couldn’t move an inch.

Not that she wanted to.

She took in a deep breath and felt her body’s contours mold to his. He really was unmistakably gorgeous, and it seemed such a shame to move from this wonderful position on top of him… Except to the fact that her pinned arm was going quite numb under his weight.

“Spike!” She ran her fingers up and down his spine, tickling him mercilessly.

He giggled and squirmed again and then abruptly awoke with a start.

“Huh?” he blinked confusedly, disappointed to have been awakened from yet another dream…and then realizing that at least a part of his dream had been real. The Slayer really _was_ spooned up against his back…and, wait a minute! Why was she…?

“Wake up, Spike!” she demanded irately. “I can’t feel my arm at all anymore!”

 _Arm?_ This was way too confusing for the first thing in the evening. Fortunately, she managed to move the arm in question enough for him to realize that it was trapped beneath him and raise himself up enough for her to pull it free.

She instantly crawled off of him, tripping as she went and landing on the dirt floor in a tangle of limbs.

Half-awake now, he rolled over to face her with a perplexed expression on his face. “Slayer, why was I lyin’ on your arm?” he asked with a wide, feline yawn, his eyelids still drooping drowsily.

“I was trying to look at your watch, and then you just grabbed hold of me and wouldn’t let go,” Buffy said defensively, sticking with her well-planned excuse.

“Oh.” He nodded sleepily and closed his eyes again. She could almost see them snap back open. “Don’ have a watch,” he pointed out.

“I noticed,” she said wryly, “but by then I was trapped.”

“’S nice.” Thankfully, he was still too asleep to question her rather lame explanation.

Buffy sat back, sighed, and tried to ignore the fact that the tingly feeling that had been running through her arm wasn’t entirely numbness.

“Spike?” she said at last.

“Mmm?” He cracked one eye open to look at her. Actually, he was having a bit of difficulty getting back to sleep now that the soft body that had been keeping his back nice and warm was gone.

“Are you awake?” she asked cautiously.

He sighed and sat up. “Yeah, kitten,” he decided he might as well get up since she was being so persistent.

“Good,” she smiled, “’cause we’ve got lots to do before sunset…whenever that is.”

“’bout two hours,” he provided.

She looked at him in disbelief. “H-How did you…?” she stuttered.

He scratched his stomach and couldn’t help but smile when she looked upon the skin exposed there like a woman starved. “Vamp sense,” he explained, letting his shirt fall back down into place. “Always know when the sun’s goin’.”

“Uh-huh, really,” Buffy nodded dumbly, taking in his sleep-rumpled attire and tousled platinum curls. She decided she could definitely get used to seeing Spike first thing in the morning…or evening as the case happened to be…

“So,” he said, swinging to his feet and heading over to a nearby dresser, “what’ve we got to do ‘xactly?” He pulled a jar of hair gel out of the drawer and went over to the nightstand – out of habit, Buffy assumed, because he couldn’t see his reflection in the mirror.

She shook her mind back from her pleasant daydreams and turned serious once again. “We need to reverse this spell – now more than ever.”

“No arguments from me, Binnie,” he watched her reflection.

“It’s Buffy and you know it,” she said in annoyance, moving to sit in the armchair beside him.

“Do I?” he replied with an enigmatic smile.

She rolled her eyes and went on. “The only way we know how to reverse the spell is to kill the monster, so I still say we should go after it.”

“If we can find it, that is…” He slicked the gel back into his hair, restoring it to its usual style.

Buffy sighed. “Actually, I was kind of hoping you had been lying to me and Jonathan before and you already knew where it was.” She picked up a comb from the table and began to tend to her own ruffled hair.

“Wasn’t lying,” he said apologetically, slipping into his duster. Then his brow furrowed. “Don’ know if this means somethin’…” he began.

“Anything is better than nothing,” she pointed out, setting the comb back down onto the nightstand.

“Right,” he nodded. “Well, there’s some vampires got kicked out of a cave in the hills behind Brookside park. Don’t know what did the kicking out, but it was prob’ly pretty big—”

“Our monster?” she inquired hopefully.

He shrugged. “Not sure. Couldn’t ‘urt to have a look-see, though.”

“No,” Buffy agreed with a small smile. “In fact, it’s a pretty good lead. Now we just have to not get caught checking it out… Do you know how to get there through the tunnels?”

Spike nodded. “Can get us pretty close, ‘t least.”

“Good, that takes care of problem number two…” She turned to him to see that he had a small smile on his face. “What?” she demanded.

He shrugged and looked down.

“What?!” she repeated.

“’S nothin’.”

She scowled at him. “It is something, and you will tell me right now,” she ordered.

He gave her a quick sheepish look and then found something very fascinating on his boot to watch. “’S just…” he began before trailing off. He gulped and began again at her sounds of impatience. “I jus’ never saw you like this before. You were always kinda in Jonathan’s shadow, an’ I guess… I never realized how strong you really are.”

“I’m not strong,” she quickly retorted bitterly. “If I was strong we wouldn’t be hiding out in an underground cave with all my friends after us.” A tear threatened to come into her eye, but she stopped it before he could see…at least, before she _thought_ he could see.

The look on his face softened further, however. “That’s where you’re wrong, luv,” he informed her. “To keep on fightin’ even when everyone you love’s against you… Don’ know ‘f I could do that all by my lonesome.”

“I’m not alone,” she reminded him. “I have you.”

“Yeah,” he agreed softly, then laughed. “I jus’ can’t believe I never saw it before.” One hand reached forward to push an errant lock of hair behind her ear. “Can’t believe I never saw _you_ before…”

She inhaled sharply and closed her eyes when his fingers gently caressed her cheek.

He watched her reaction with the most peaceful look on his face. Then he realized what he was doing, frowned, shook his head, and pulled back from her – both physically and emotionally.

Buffy opened her eyes to find that the kind, tender Spike was gone, and the bad ass mask was now firmly back in place. It took her a few seconds longer to compose herself, but when she did her voice was all business once again.

“We’ll need weapons…” she commented.

“Don’t fancy takin’ the beasty on bare handed?” he teased, already back into their old banter.

She gave him an annoyed look. “Do _you_ want to?” she demanded.

“Always up for a bit of a challenge,” he retorted, licking his lips.

Buffy’s own lips parted, her mouth gone suddenly dry at the thought of how wonderful those moist, cool lips would feel against her own…

“Slayer!” he practically shouted. “You hear me?!”

“Huh?” she said confusedly, shaking herself out of the daze she’d been in. She flinched slightly when she realized that Spike had managed to get up, walk across the room, open a trunk, and remove an entire pile of weapons, all while she was absorbed in her little fantasy world.

“Think the crossbow’ll do any good?” he repeated, too busy tracing the edge of an axe, a glazed look of murderous ecstasy on his face, to notice her distraction.

She frowned. “My guess is that this is a decapitation situation,” she finally decided. “Leave the crossbow.”

He nodded, obviously too beguiled by the axe to really care.

Buffy walked over to him and began searching through the weapons there. “Ooh, pointy!” she said, removing a broadsword from the pile and testing its balance. “Pretty…” She gave it a few experimental swings.

Spike looked at her in surprise, and she gave him an embarrassed little smile.

“I like sharp objects,” she commented, blushing furiously.

“Me, too,” he agreed.

“So,” she said, sticking the tip of her weapon into the dirt and running her fingers up and down the hilt lovingly, “do we wait till sundown or—” She stopped with a quick gulp when she saw the way he was watching her.

Spike knew he’d been caught, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the way her hands gently toyed with her sword’s hilt. And, somewhat tellingly, she didn’t stop when she noticed exactly what it was that had rendered him speechless. Rather, her fingers encircled the hilt, pumping up and down on it…

Or was that just his imagination?

He shook his head to find that she was still merely fingering it lightly.

Buffy’s eyes widened when she realized what the connotations of her hands’ actions were, and she abruptly stopped and just gripped the hilt. Or was that worse? He was practically panting now, and the bulge in his pants looked like it was about to burst through the tight denim.

He licked his lips once, twice, three times, before he could finally speak. “W-We sh-should go now, I think,” he gasped in a gravelly, desperate voice.

“Right,” Buffy agreed, nodding vigorously and swinging her sword over her shoulder.

He recovered from his stupor slightly now that the stimulus had been removed and handed her the lantern he’d removed from the chest. She held it with a shaky hand while he tried to light it with an even shakier one. Eventually, the flame shown brightly inside, however, and they both breathed a sigh of relief. Holding hands in the dark was…not exactly the best idea given either’s current state of mind.

“Let’s go then,” he said briskly, leading the way into the tunnels and setting a fast pace that wouldn’t allow her to start up any embarrassing conversations.

Buffy didn’t object in the slightest as she followed him through the winding corridors…

* * *

Buffy stood still for a minute, watching the opening of the cave.

“You OK?” Spike asked, standing right beside her and lending her his…well, not warmth…strength?

Whatever it was, it worked. She gripped the hilt of her sword more tightly and turned to him. “You realize how dangerous this could be if it’s in there…?”

“’ve always enjoyed a nice spot of danger in th’ evenin’,” he gave her that irascible smirk of his.

“OK,” she nodded, never tearing her eyes from him, “this is how it’s gonna work then. I’m going in first. I hug the left wall. You come in a few seconds behind me and stick to the right. Hopefully, nothing should be able to get past us then.”

“Sounds all right,” he agreed, dropping his cigarette and stamping it out with the toe of his boot. “That all then?”

Buffy gulped. “N-No,” she said in a suddenly shaky voice. “I don’t know if we’re going to make it, you know. I’m gonna do something really stupid…”

He shrugged. “’ve heard worse plans before,” he commented.

“That’s not the stupid thing,” she practically whispered.

He turned to look at her in confusion…and then surprise when she wrapped her arms around his neck and assaulted his lips with her own, pulling him down deeper into the kiss.

For a second he stood there too stunned to do anything, and then he found himself agreeing wholeheartedly with her ‘what the hell?’ attitude, and he returned her passion with everything he had, his eyelashes fluttering shut.

She moaned into his mouth when his arms slid around her, one hand slipping around her waist and the other holding the back of her head in order to increase the intensity of their kiss.

Lips parted simultaneously, tasting and biting soft lips. His tongue invaded her mouth first, exploring the warm, wet cavity before she joined it with her own.

As their mouths dueled, her hands roamed the expanse of muscle she’d been fantasizing about so often lately. One hand managed to sneak its way under the hem of his black T-shirt, reverently discovering that the strong muscles beneath felt even more marvelous than she’d ever imagined.

The tight grip about her waist pulled her body flush up against him, pressing soft curves up intimately against powerful steel. They reveled in each other’s strength, neither holding back their burning lust in the slightest.

Unfortunately, Buffy soon rediscovered the irritating need to breathe, and she pulled back almost as suddenly as she had jumped him.

They stood apart from each other for a minute, both panting heavily since Spike had apparently forgotten that he didn’t need to breathe, staring at each other in awe.

The same thought was flickering through both their minds at that moment: never, _ever_ had they been burned so deeply to the core before. And if that was just from one kiss, what if…?

“See?” Buffy finally managed to speak between breaths. “That was very, very stupid.”

He nodded, still too stunned to speak.

“We…” she took a deep breath and centered herself at last, “we need to hunt this thing.”

“R-Right.”

“You OK?” she asked nervously.

A slow, seductive smile spread across his lips. “Oh, ‘m better’n OK, pet…” he purred.

She rolled her eyes. “Stop that,” she insisted. “I’m trying to do something serious here.”

And just like that, the familiar level of comfort between them returned.

“So ‘m I,” he teased.

She blushed. “There’s time for that later,” she promised softly. _I can’t believe I just said that…_ “Right now we have to—”

“You first then,” he cut her off impatiently, gesturing to the cave.

She gave him a wry smile before taking the first step into the dark pit. Fortunately, it was light enough that she could see without the lantern, because she would have had a hard time carrying both it and her sword. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Spike was following, impressed by how completely silently he moved.

Together, they slowly made their way deeper and deeper into the cavern. The steady dripping sound of several stalactites was the only thing disturbing the absolute quiet, and it grated on Buffy’s nerves, increasing the feeling of ominous portends.

Just ahead, the cavern widened, and Spike tapped her on the shoulder and gave her a questioning look.

She gestured that they should split up, and then gave him a solemn frown off of his quizzical look.

He finally nodded and shrugged and went in one direction while Buffy took the other. Only a little ways out, the cavern dropped off in an overhanging cliff. If it was here, one of them was bound to find it.

Buffy’s fingers turned white, she gripped the hilt of her sword so tightly. Any second now…

“Slayer! Help!”

Without thinking, Buffy turned back and ran toward the sound of Spike’s voice, moving at a blinding pace due to the adrenaline and fear. She got to the site of battle just after the first few blows had been exchanged.

The monster had Spike’s axe-head stuck firmly in its arm, but even so it didn’t seem slowed down in the slightest. It wrenched its arm back – axe and all – and swung at Spike with its other arm.

The vampire leapt back easily, but was forced to let go of the axe handle in the process.

A wide sweep of the creature’s arm, and the axe flew through the air, skittering to a halt across the cavern from them.

Before the monster had a chance to take another swipe and Spike, Buffy jabbed her sword right into its side.

It howled in pain and clawed the air wildly in her direction, but she just barely managed to avoid all of its blows.

Spike, meanwhile, tackled the creature from behind, fangs and glowing yellow eyes gleaming in the pale moonlight that filtered through the cave entrance.

The monster reared back, pulling itself free of Buffy’s sword and smashing Spike back against the cliff face in one motion.

The force was enough to stun Spike for just long enough for the creature to grab hold of him and fling him toward the cliff face.

Buffy had been prepared to strike the creature’s neck when she saw Spike go over.

“No!”

The cry pierced the eerie silence of the cavern, but Buffy was completely unaware of the fact. She dove over to the edge of the precipice, clutching at the air where Spike had just been wildly…

The monster took the opportunity to flee, unheeded by the two demon hunters.

All in all, it was a very strange experience. Buffy was quite certain her consciousness blacked out for a few seconds, mortal fear completely overcoming her.

And then, when she came back to herself, relief flooded her body at the feel of the cool hand caught firmly in hers.

“Little help here, pet?” Spike’s shaking voice echoed up from the chasm.

“I’ve got you,” Buffy insisted. “Just a second. It’s OK. I’ve got you.” She could feel their fingers slipping, and without hesitation she leaned further over the edge, reinforcing her grip with her other hand. “I’ve got you…” she repeated, whether for his benefit or her own not even she was sure.

“Can’t get a foothold anywhere,” Spike commented, a bit calmer now that he was no longer doomed to what would undoubtedly be the most painful fall of his unlife. “I think the cliff goes back right under the ledge.”

“It’s all right,” Buffy insisted, carefully pulling herself up to her knees. “I can…handle this…” She began to pull him up with all her strength.

Soon, his other hand had caught hold of the ledge, and with a triumphant little exclamation he pulled himself out of the chasm.

Buffy instantly cradled him in her arms and pulled him back against the safe wall of the cliff face, her body still trembling in terror.

Spike didn’t bother to hide the fact that he was shaking as well, and they slumped back into sitting positions against the sturdy wall behind them.

“S-Slayer?” he whispered, still captured tightly in her embrace.

“Spike?” she murmured into his hair, a little sigh of relief escaping her when his arms wrapped around her waist.

“Y-Y’know that really stupid thing you did earlier?” he reminded her.

“Yeah,” she smiled down at him fondly, and he turned his chin up to look at her, his eyes cold ebony in the blackness.

“Well, ‘m about to do something even stupider,” he said with a small smile. “Jus’ thought I should let you know…”

And with that, he was upon her.

She willingly slid back onto the cold stone floor of the cave, savoring the feel on his body on top of hers and his cool lips and tongue all over her face. She wound her fingers into his hair and pulled him down for another of those amazing, earth-shattering, time-stopping, why-on-earth-haven’t-we-ever-done-this-before kisses.

He moaned into her mouth and ground his hips down into hers.

She parted her legs in response, allowing him to slip in between, feeling his hardness pressed up roughly against her inner thigh.

His fingers were on the buttons of her blouse now, undoing them far, far too slowly. He tenderly caressed her heated flesh as it was exposed to his eyes, cupping a still-clothed breast with his other hand.

Buffy returned the favor, yanking his leather duster back of his shoulders. He pulled away for a second to toss it to the side, and she took the opportunity to run her hands up underneath his black tee, feeling the raw power beneath his smooth flesh pulse and tremble at her touch.

“Oh god, I want you…” she whimpered softly.

“Want you, too, luv,” he said, coming back in for another bruising kiss.

“Well, well, well,” a voice interrupted their feverish kisses. “Finally caught in the act…”

The both looked up in surprise to see Riley standing in the entranceway, the taser in his hands aimed straight at them. Behind him, Xander watched them with complete horror on his face, a crossbow dangling from one hand.

Riley’s eyes turned to ice as he watched the two of them still locked in their forbidden embrace. “I told you before, _vampire_ ,” he spit out the last word like it was a bad taste in his mouth, “you touch her, I was going to make you pay. Well, now seems just as good a time as any,” he hissed, his finger tightening on the trigger and firing…


	7. Confidence

Spike didn’t even have time to blink before a blinding arc of electrical energy shot out from Riley’s taser. And then he looked down in surprise when he realized he wasn’t unconscious.

The slight gasp and complete collapse of the woman beside him quickly answered any questions he might have, though.

Faster than the eye could see, he caught Buffy in his arms before her head could hit the floor. He shook her slightly, but she didn’t stir.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Xander exclaimed, horrified as he watched Buffy fall.

“Taking out the greatest threat first,” Riley retorted coldly, taking aim again.

“Are you crazy?!” Xander grabbed hold of the taser before Riley could shoot. “Buffy’s an innocent in this!”

Riley snorted. “Innocent, right… She had that _thing’s_ hands all over her.” He tried to pull the gun away from Xander’s grasp.

Xander refused to budge, however. “We weren’t supposed to hurt her,” he insisted.

“Unless it was absolutely necessary,” Riley countered, still fighting for control of his weapon.

The argument finally managed to pierce through the overwhelming rage in Spike’s mind, and as he watched the two humans fight over the weapon, he saw his one chance of escape.

Xander and Riley were so completely caught up in their own little battle that they’d forgotten all about Spike. Finally having had enough, Riley shoved Xander back hard against the cliff face and used his taser to pin the other man’s neck to the rock.

Xander let out a gasping breath, and Riley realized too late exactly what he was doing.

“S-Sorry,” he said shakily, letting Xander go.

Xander rubbed his neck and breathed painfully, too caught up in the recent assault to notice the lightning-quick blur that whizzed behind Riley.

“What,” wheeze, “is your problem?” Xander finally said weakly and irately.

Riley looked away, ashamed. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “It’s just…seeing her…with _that_ …” He turned back to where Buffy and Spike had been and saw for the first time that they were gone. “Shit!” he exclaimed, looking around frantically. “Where did they go?”

Xander shrugged and attempted to return his breathing to normal.

“W-We’ve go to find them!” Riley insisted. “Buffy’s unconscious, and—oh god!” He ran out the cave entrance, searching frantically for the missing pair.

“And she’s probably a lot safer than she would be around _you_ ,” Xander muttered under his breath, before reluctantly joining Riley on the hunt…

* * *

Spike collapsed just outside of the south wall of Brookside Park. That was the problem with the whole vamp blinding burst of speed thing – he could only keep it up for so long, and if he pushed it, he was in desperate need of liquid refreshment.

And carrying the Slayer’s dead weight along with him had _definitely_ pushed it.

He settled his precious cargo more comfortably into his lap and tried to come up with a plan.

He needed blood. Badly. And given his recent handicap, ‘stopping for a bite to eat’ had become an annoyingly difficult task.

Plus, he was being chased. He could hear the whelp and tin soldier searching for them even then. For a second, he was almost tempted to leave Buffy and let her friends take care of her, but that deadly gleam in Captain Cardboard’s eye… Oh no, he knew that Buffy had been in his arms of her own free will, and if he caught her he was going to make her pay every bit as much as he would Spike.

Third, there was that damn monster. Everything except the lack of blood problem would be fixed if Spike could somehow find it, kill it all by himself, and restore the world to its natural order. All while starving, of course.

He had to bite back a bark of laughter at the sheer impossibility of this last plan. In fact, now that he really thought about it, he hadn’t had any real options from the beginning…

Wearily, he stood up with barely the strength to clutch Buffy to his chest. The walk to his crypt seemed endless, and several times he had to bite back the urge to, well… _bite_. The shock of the chip in his head was something he couldn’t handle at the moment, though, so Buffy had a double safety in her favor.

She was unceremoniously dropped to the floor just inside the crypt door while he scrambled over to the mini-fridge and gratefully discovered that Jonathan and his merry band of do-gooders had at least had the decency to leave his food supply alone during their little manhunt.

He emptied the first two bags in a single gulp each.

By that time, his brain was functioning properly again. He grabbed as many bags as he could and swore when he realized that he’d left his duster – and all its handy pockets – behind. However, a quick search revealed that that hideous leopard skin jacket that Buffy was wearing had several large interior pockets. He stuffed them as full as he could and lifted her up once again.

This place was probably the least safe location in all of Sunnydale. What they needed was somewhere nearby – he didn’t think he’d be up to carrying her all the way back to Harm’s – where no one would bother to look for them.

He discarded several ideas as he slipped through the shadows of Sunnydale Cemetery until the most ridiculous, outrageous idea presented itself to him.

He couldn’t help but crack a smile at the sheer _audacity_ of his plan and, silent as a cat, made his way toward their new safe haven under the cloak of darkness…

* * *

“Mmm…Spike…” Buffy rolled over on her side, curling up against the pillow that looked very much like a naked vampire in her dreams.

“You called, luv?” he said, watching her intently from his own comfortable position on the other mattress.

Buffy’s sleep addled mind managed to register the fact that Spike’s voice was coming from the opposite direction of the object she was snuggled up against, and she opened her eyes to discover the mistake she’d made in her sleep.

She rolled over slowly so that she could see him across the room. “’Morning,” she muttered sleepily.

“’S just a bit past midnight, of course,” he gave her a bemused smile.

“Yeah,” she stretched, “see? Morning…technically speaking, that is.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Billie.”

“Buffy!”

“ _Barbie_.”

“Bastard.” She stuck her tongue out at him, then blushed when the mischievous sparkle returned to his eyes and he licked his lips at her gesture. “What?” she demanded self-consciously.

“Lovely tongue you’ve got there, pet,” he purred seductively. “Talented, too, ‘f I recall correctly…”

Buffy ‘eep’ed and pulled her blanket around herself more tightly. So _that part_ hadn’t been a dream… She sat up abruptly and noticed her surroundings for the first time. “How did we get here?” she asked, confused.

“Don’ remember your lover boy zappin’ you into unconsciousness then, ‘ey Slayer?” he sulked slightly at the fact that she no longer seemed to be acknowledging his advances.

“Wh-What?” her voice shook slightly. “Riley…shot me?”

“Would ‘ave gotten yours truly if Harris hadn’t’a jumped in an’ attempted to knock some sense into your toy soldier.” He shook his head. “Who ever woulda thought the Whelp’d be useful?”

“Xander helped us?” Buffy took heart in this fact.

“Don’ get your hopes up, kitten,” Spike retorted. “’E just didn’t like seein’ you get shot. Still barely got us out of there before they got wind of our escape.”

“And you brought me _here_?!” Buffy gestured to the dorm room around them. “This will be the first place they’ll look!”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” Spike said satisfactorily, leaning back against Willow’s pillows in a feline way. “’S too obvious. They’ll never think to look for us here.”

“What about Willow?” Buffy demanded. “I think she’s gonna notice when she comes back and finds a vampire in her bed.”

Spike snorted and rolled his eyes. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Goldilocks, your best bud’s been livin’ elsewhere all term. ‘Sides,” a wicked leer spread across his face, “’f you think me bein’ in her bed’s such a problem, ‘d be happy to accept an invitation into yours…”

Buffy’s face turned bright red, and she found something very fascinating to play with on her coverlet.

Spike’s eyes narrowed, and he began to compose a rather biting retort about her leading him on _again_ when she nervously pulled up the corner of her blanket and gave him a shy smile.

“C’mon over,” she practically whispered, desperately looking anywhere but into his eyes.

He, however, didn’t tear his gaze from her face once while he walked over to her bed. He sat down on the edge lightly and was astonished when her hand caught hold of his and pulled him to her. Somewhat awkwardly, he lay down beside her, helping her when she tried to pull the covers over him as well.

For a minute they just lay there, face to face, bodies pressed together, not speaking.

“Gentlemen got your tongue?” she finally teased.

He spared her a wry smile. “Jus’ don’ know what you ‘spect me to do ‘s all…”

“You could start by kissing me,” she said softly, her hand wrapping around his waist and holding his body to hers more tightly.

It was all the opening he needed. His lips found hers to be just as sweet and soft as he had remembered, and his fingers trailed through her hair, pulling her closer, deeper into their kiss.

Buffy’s eyelashes fluttered shut, and she opened her mouth against his probing tongue. He didn’t slip inside her immediately, though, taking the time to nibble sensuously at each of her parted lips, tasting every inch of her mouth…

Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore and plunged her own tongue into his mouth. He let her explore for a while, biting back a moan when she discovered the sheaths for his fangs and began toying with them. Gods, did she have any idea how sensitive a vampire’s fangs were? The smiling curve of her lips against his told him that she knew _exactly_ what she was doing…

With a growl deep in his chest, he fended off her tongue’s assault with his own. The two dueled and parried in an erotic dance that had both of them whimpering in each other’s arms within minutes.

The arm Buffy had casually flung about his waist began to slowly explore him, her fingers quickly finding the hem of his black tee and slipping beneath to feel the cool, smooth muscles of his back.

His own hand traveled from her hair down the sensitive column of her throat to her shoulder. A quick, light caress up and down her arm, and then those nimble fingers glided down her side, touching her just lightly enough to tantalize her delicate nerve endings, sending goosebumps up and down her spine.

She wrapped one leg over his lean hip, her foot gently massaging the backs of his thighs and calves. He responded by capturing her other foot between his, gently caressing her sensitized arches. She gasped lightly when his cool, bare feet first caught her, but soon was enjoying his movements too much to care…not to mention the way his feet slowly warmed to her touch, as if she were the sun, melting the chill from his limbs…

Inevitably, she had to break their kiss to breathe, however. She gasped a few times for air, still savoring the way their bodies were naturally molding together. She got one good look at the passion buried deep within his sapphirine eyes before his mouth lowered to her throat, and she was too awash with emotion to do anything but _feel_ once again.

He nipped and sucked his way from the line of her jaw to the soft hollow of her throat, eliciting little mewls and whimpers from her as he went. His mouth traveled up the other side, pausing only to hiss slightly at the mark his Grandsire had left on her before his flicked his own tongue right over it, attempting to wipe away the claim.

Buffy felt an odd tingle go through her body and brief flash of panic when he bite gently over Angel’s mark, but then all memories of the lover who had given her his deadly kissed were erased as Spike’s hand gently cupped her breast through the fabric of her blouse, kneading and arousing her.

“Spike!” she gasped when his blunt teeth sunk deeper into the healed wound on her throat.

He smiled against her at the thought that he had finally broken the Great Poof’s claim, and he rose to look into her eyes once more.

“Wh-What was…that?” Buffy whispered raggedly, the butterflies in her stomach still fluttering about at a mile a minute and her heart beating a mile a minute.

“Vampire thing,” he explained sheepishly. “Just makin’ sure it was me you’re really with right now…”

“Of course it’s you,” Buffy frowned slightly, brushing back one platinum curl that had escaped his hair gel. It stubbornly refused to be put back in its place. “I-I’ve been thinking about this – you and me – for a long time…”

“Me, too,” he agreed softly.

“In fact,” she cupped his cheek in her hand and looked right into those deep cerulean eyes of his – clear and stormy at the same time…how was that possible? – before continuing, “that night when I first saw you…when you threatened Jonathan outside the Bronze?”

“I remember, luv,” he smiled slightly at the memory.

“I saw you, and you were so beautiful, and then I realized that you were a vampire and evil, a-and…” she trailed off and blushed.

“’Ey now,” he said softly, his knuckles tracing the curve of her face, “’s all right, princess.”

She smiled at the unexpected kindness she’d so recently discovered was buried deep within him. “It was like you broke my heart,” she finally confessed, “before I’d even gotten a chance to know you.”

He shut his eyes and was silent for a few seconds, but spoke before she had a chance to worry about his reaction to her admission. “Saw you that night, too, luv.” His voice was deep and husky now, sending thrilling vibrations right through her body and down to the void between her legs. He gently kissed the corner of her lips. “Saw you and wished…wanted…” He sighed and began again. “Just knew you were different is all,” he finally said, “and not just because you were the Slayer.” His voice softened, became more upper class, more sensitive, more _vulnerable_ … “You were the kind of woman a man could spend eternity lost in. And never once grow bored. And I wanted so much to just…” He turned away, embarrassed.

“You wanted to make me a vampire?” she finished for him.

He nodded sheepishly. “Are you mad?” he inquired cautiously.

“No, I don’t think so,” she began hesitantly. “I mean, it is kinda scary, but it’s also kinda…”

“What?”

“Sweet? Touching?” She shook her head. “Not sure, but…I’m not repulsed or anything.”

“Good to know,” he commented, resting his against her shoulder and lightly nuzzling her neck.

She wove her fingers through his hair and watched his face in amazement. It was as if yet another mask had slipped away, and now all she could see was a scared, lonely young man who wanted nothing more than to accepted, held, loved… And so she accepted him, and held him, and…

“Slayer?” he finally whispered.

“Mmm?” she responded, still battling with the latest emotions that were trying to worm their way into her heart.

“What am I to you?” he asked hesitantly, frightened but doing his best to hide the barrier around his innermost self that she was so close to breaking through.

The façade didn’t fool her in the slightest, though. “Beautiful,” she answered without pause.

He smiled a shy, delighted little smile. “You saved my life,” he commented.

She frowned at the _non sequitur_.

“When I fell over the cliff,” he clarified, “you saved my life.”

She shrugged. “Fall probably wouldn’t have killed you anyway. Besides, you saved me, too…”

“From your own boyfriend,” he snorted derisively.

Buffy frowned. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she said slowly, the idea a revelation to her as well.

“Oh?” He didn’t allow even the tiniest sliver of hope to shine through the word.

Buffy bit her lip. These new thoughts and feelings were still strange to her, so why should she share them with him yet? _Because you want to tell him, you want him to be the one to understand you…_ She took a deep breath.

“Riley,” she began with a sigh. “When Riley and I first met,” she started over, “I had absolutely no interest in him – not in that way. He was just kind of this nice, ordinary guy that was around.”

Spike nodded for her to continue, surprisingly not showing even the slightest signs of jealousy.

“So, then he starts liking me, and after a while I begin to realize it. You may not have noticed, but I’ve been a bit unlucky with love…” The look in his eyes said he definitely _had_. “But everyone always tells you to jump right back on the horse and give it another go and so…” She threw her head back in exasperation. “I just kind of went along with it because I thought I was supposed to, y’know?”

He nodded and began petting the short hairs at the back of her neck.

“Mmm, feels good…” She closed her eyes for a second at the sensations before speaking again. “Willow liked him a lot, and everyone said he was good for me, and we would do those normal date-like things where we’d rant on and on about our interests and discover that we have absolutely nothing in common but keep pretending anyway.”

“You felt pressured, trapped,” he commented.

“Exactly,” she agreed. “It was like: this is the best I’m ever going to get, so I better grab it up while I still can.”

“Doesn’t work without the fire,” he smiled slightly and leaned in to kiss her temple, “without the passion…”

“I know that now,” Buffy nodded, “but I’d never had a chance to really find that out before… But then he slept with Faith while she was in my body, and he didn’t even realize it, and—”

“Hold on a second,” Spike frowned. “Who slept with who in who’s body?” he asked confusedly.

Buffy laughed. “You didn’t hear about this?” she asked. He shook his head. “Ugh,” Buffy threw her head back, “the ten thousand reasons I can’t stand Faith…”

“That’s that other Slayer, right?” he inquired. “The one that’s gone rogue?”

“Oh, yeah,” Buffy grimaced.

“An’ she was in your body?”

“Had this little switchy device and everything.”

“Well now,” he said with a look of sudden realization on his face, “that all makes sense now then, doesn’t it?”

“Huh?” It was Buffy’s turn for confusion.

“You didn’t by any chance corner me in Bronze, try to practically dry hump me, and then run off with some cute little cock-tease statement ‘bout how bein’ with me was wrong, now did you, pet?”

“ _What_?!” she exclaimed in horror and indignation.

“Din’t think so,” he reassured her with a small smile. “Gotta tell you, though, I spend many an hour tryin’ to puzzle out whether you were drunk or looped up on some spell or whatnot. Acted like a grand ol’ bitch, she did.”

“Faith came on to you?” Buffy said coldly. “In _my_ body?!”

“Bitch,” he repeated apologetically. “Found a new addition to the top ten people I hate list.”

“ _Riley_ didn’t hate her,” Buffy said sourly. “He didn’t even realize it wasn’t me.”

“An’ the two of them, they…” he trailed off.

“And get this,” Buffy said irately. “Here’s Riley’s great excuse: ‘I felt that something was wrong’. Hello? You can’t even tell who you’re sleeping with?!”

Spike shrugged. “’E’s a useless wanker anyway,” he informed her, “couldn’t find his ass with both hands.”

She giggled slightly at the image, that completely dumbfounded expression on Riley’s face as he searched. “You knew, though,” she said softly, leaning into him once more.

“Was bloody obvious,” Spike declared. “Did think it was some kinda ‘mega bitch’ spell or somethin’, though.”

Buffy bit her lip while she debated asked the next question. “Would you have slept with her?” she finally ventured.

Spike sighed and pulled away. “If she’d been serious? Prob’ly,” he admitted. “Although, vampire here. Will do anything to get laid.”

“Except lie to me,” she pointed out.

He looked at her in surprise.

“Come back here,” she opened her arms to him.

He watched her nervously, hesitantly…

“I want you,” she said softly, “and I’m pretty sure you want me…”

“’Course I do, luv,” he insisted.

“Then c’mon,” she caught his hand and pulled him back into her arms.

He was tense for a minute but then began to relax at the way her hands were gently massaging his back. “Thought you’d be angry,” he commented.

“Yeah,” Buffy said softly, “me, too.”

“What with me thinkin’ ‘bout shagging your worst enemy while she was in your body…”

“I did get that point already, you know,” she smiled wryly.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yup.” She lowered her lips to his ear and began nibbling lightly at the lobe there. “So whattaya say?” she looked up at him demurely. “You want a shot at the real thing or not?”

The only response she got was a low growl, and then he was on top of her, his weight pressing her down into the mattress and his hands and mouth everywhere…


	8. Not Again...

“It’s all my fault,” Riley insisted. “I let them get away.”

Giles sighed wearily. “You have no idea where they could have gone?” he asked, concerned.

“I don’t see how Spike could have gotten far carrying Buffy,” Xander said, casting a bitter look in Riley’s direction.

“Carrying Buffy?” Jonathan asked confusedly.

“Yeah,” Xander said, giving Riley the evil eye, “that’s kind of the part Mr. Initiative over here left out – the whole shooting Buffy with a taser just because he was pissed off.”

“I thought we agreed not to mention that part,” Riley hissed at Xander between his teeth.

“No,” Xander retorted, “you _ordered_ me not to say anything. I never agreed to anything. And I don’t take orders from you.”

Riley’s eyes narrowed. “It’s your fault they got away,” he countered, contradicting his own statements from earlier. “If you’d just let me take Spike out—”

“You were so out of it I had no idea _what_ you were going to do,” Xander defended his actions. “For all I know you were going after Buffy again. Or you had that thing set to kill Spike.”

“And what if I did?” Riley demanded. “That _thing_ deserves it.”

“He still owes Xander money from that pool game they bet on last week,” Anya commented off-handedly. “He can’t die until we get his money.”

“And when did this become a vendetta anyway?” Willow chimed in to defend Xander as well. “You were supposed to _help_ Buffy, not shoot her!”

“I am _trying_ to help Buffy!” Riley insisted, scowling. “We need to find her right now, and you people aren’t helping!”

“Now, now,” Jonathan broke in, a small furrow on his brow at the way things were changing before his very eyes, “we _all_ want to help Buffy.”

“Of course, now we have no idea where to look,” Riley glowered at Xander. “They’ve probably found themselves a good hideout by now.”

“ _Au contraire_ ,” Xander retorted, holding out the black leather duster that he’d retrieved from the cave. “I’m guessing this is a personal enough item to do the tracking spell,” he said triumphantly, handing the jacket over to Willow.

Willow turned to Tara, who nodded.

“This should just take a few minutes,” Willow agreed…

* * *

Buffy lay back on the bed in her dorm room and moaned as Spike’s talented tongue played games with the hoops through her ear. Hungry, eager hands peeled back the skin-tight T-shirt he always wore, exposing the most scrumptious six pack of abs she’d ever seen.

He pulled away from her just long enough to slip his shirt the rest of the way off, and then he was back on top of her, his lips capturing hers in another smoldering kiss.

She arched her body into his cool hands as he unfastened the buttons of her blouse one by one. Tender, lingering caresses trailed across all the new flesh that was exposed to his hungry eyes, and she whimpered as his touch lit her skin on fire.

“Cor, you’re beautiful, luv,” he gasped, looking down at her with dark, stormy eyes as he bushed her blouse aside to discover tanned curves hidden only slightly by a thin strip of crimson silk.

She bit her lip in anticipation when his hand reached down to toy with the front clasp of bra. He didn’t release it at once, though, pausing to slip the smooth fabric between his fingers and cup her breasts in his palms first.

After a while the agony of not feeling his bare flesh against her needy mounds became too much and managed an enraged scowl. “Do it already,” she demanded, guiding his hand back to the clasp.

An amused smirk twitched at the corners of his lips. “Do what?” he asked with false innocence.

“Don’t make me hurt you,” she threatened good-naturedly.

“Mmm…”

The vibrations of his chest when he purred went straight through her nerve endings, sending excited little tingles all throughout her body and culminating right at the junction of her thighs. Her panties began to chafe a bit against the sensitive wetness as her body prepared to welcome him inside.

“Might enjoy havin’ you hurt me, baby,” he said with a small wink, knowing exactly what effect he was having on her at the moment.

She tried to scowl at him. Really, she did. But then he was grinding his hips against hers, and her clit started throbbing in eager anticipation even through the two layers of jeans that separated them.

“You’re…ohgod!…an…yesplease!… _asshole_!” she finally managed to get out breathlessly.

He chuckled against her throat while his hand slipped down to unfasten her jeans. “Not very convincing,” he chided her. “Maybe if you weren’t moanin’ and screamin’ for me…”

“I hate you,” she said darkly.

“Right then,” he said, pulling back. “You won’t be wantin’ me to touch you then, I guess,” he teased.

She groaned when his body rose off of hers. “Still want you…” she finally whispered raggedly, shimmying her jeans and panties off of her legs. He helped pull them free of her ankles and then settled back down on top of her, his jeans the only obstruction remaining to their union…well, that and his cocky, obnoxious attitude.

“’Course you do,” he agreed with a delighted grin. “’m irresistible. Can’t hardly keep your hands to yourself, ‘d wager,” he teased.

“Ugh!” Buffy rolled her eyes. “Full of yourself much?”

“Not as such,” he countered, “but ‘f _you_ want to be full of me, all you’ve got to do is ask, Bitsy.”

“Argh!” she exclaimed. “Could you _be_ any more irritating?! And, for the last time, it’s _Buffy_!”

“Could be lots more irritating if you wanted me to be, Bessy. Got a feelin’ you _like_ me this way…” He gave her a lascivious smirk.

“That’s it!” she exclaimed, twin fires of anger and desire rushing through her at the same time. “Just _shut up_ already!”

And with that she shoved him hard onto his back and plundered his lips with her own, shutting him up in the only way she knew how. His body rumbled with a deep, resonant purr beneath her, and she crawled on top of him, enjoying the vibrating sensation between her thighs.

“Cor, luv!” he moaned when she broke off their kiss to begin biting and licking her way down his throat.

“My name,” she insisted, grinding her hips down against his. “What is it?”

He gasped at the overwhelming pressure as his cock swelled up in his jeans, enjoying the feel of the hot body on top of him moving up and down far, _far_ too slowly…

“’S a bloody stupid name,” he gasped out, refusing to cave in to her demands with the last of his strength.

She frowned and caught the zipper of his jeans roughly, yanking it down and exposing the beautifully sculpted hips she’d ever seen outside of Greek statues. She gave him a feline smile and intentionally avoided looking at the head that was now peeking out at her

“Say it,” she insisted, her tongue tracing the cool plane of his solar plexus.

“Binky,” he retorted smugly, hiding just how close to losing it he really was.

“Say it,” she repeated, plunging her tongue into his navel.

He gasped and bucked beneath her. “B-Brandy,” he taunted her, refusing to give up the little bit of power over her that he had left.

“God!” she exclaimed in exasperation. “Do you spend hours coming up with stupid names that begin with ‘B’ or something?!”

“Hard when I can’t stick your name right at the top o’ the list, too, Bunty,” he laughed.

“Is that even a name?” she countered, pulling his jeans down his hips furiously and tossing them aside.

“’Course,” he frowned slightly. “Don’ hear it much, but—”

He was cut off by another bruising kiss.

“Aggravating, annoying, stubborn, pig-headed…” she moaned between kisses all up and down his chest.

“Could say the say about you, kitten,” he joked lightly.

“I still love you, though,” she said lightly. And then froze when she realized exactly what she’d just said.

“B-Buffy?” his voice cracked, serious now and using her real name for the first time. His eyes were wide open in shock just as she was sure hers were.

“I-I-I…” Buffy began to stutter hopelessly, pulling back and curling into a little ball at the foot of the bed.

“Oh, pet…” Spike quickly curled up behind her, showering her back and neck with kisses.

She relaxed slightly against him, but her mind was still racing a mile a minute. _I love Spike, I love Spike… Oh, heaven help me, I love Spike…_

“Love you, too.”

The words were so soft against her ear that for a minute she thought she’d just imagined them.

“Love you, too,” he repeated, a bit louder.

She turned to look at him in surprise and couldn’t help but smile back at the nervous little grin he gave her. One hand cautiously reached out to touch his chest, and the electricity surged between them with newfound intensity.

They both gasped in surprise before Spike pulled her roughly back into his arms.

“Love you, want you, need you,” he moaned, laying her back down on the bed and coming to rest on top of her.

“L-Love you, want you, need you,” she repeated with a shy, lazy smile.

He bent down to kiss her once more and lined himself up with the soft wetness between her thighs, and…

“Oh shit!”

They both turned in surprise when they heard this exclamation come from behind them to see a figure outlined in the open doorway…

* * *

“Oh shit!” His eyes bugged out in disbelief when he opened the door to the dorm room to see the two of them moving together in a naked mass of limbs on the bed.

“Not _again_!” Spike groaned.

Somehow they managed to get a blanket pulled up to cover themselves up.

Still, he just stood there, staring, dumbfounded, and trying desperately not to think about how _hot_ this scene actually was. He was sure his face was about as red as theirs were.

“S-Sorry…” he managed to stammer. “I th-thought this was Linda’s room?”

Buffy let out a weary sigh. “She’s one floor up.”

“Oh. I’m so, _sooo_ sorry,” he hastily insisted, slamming the door shut again and practically racing up the stairs, his face still a dark maroon…

* * *

Spike turned back to look at Buffy, and for a second they just stared at each other, struck dumb. And then, simultaneously, a giggle escaped from each of their lips. It quickly turned into all out hysterics, and it was quite some time before either of them could speak again.

“Did you see the look on his face?” Buffy giggled into her hand.

“Think I might’ve caught it amidst coverin’ up your juicy parts, luv,” he said with a wry smile, tossing the blanket back to the side.

“Not a problem,” Buffy insisted. “He was totally too busy checking out your ass.”

“Lucky ‘ve got such a nice one then,” he joked.

“Mmm…” Buffy agreed, clutching the firm globes in question in her hands and pulling him back down between her outspread legs. “Where were we again…?”

“You were about to let the Big Bad ravish you,” he reminded her, whispering the words against her ear and tickling the soft hairs there.

Buffy turned his chin to her and captured his lips once more, the fire returning to her veins as his tongue slowly stroked hers. She began to explore his back, feeling the lean muscles beneath her palms tense and flex while he kissed her.

His own free hand – the one he wasn’t using to prop himself up above her – trailed down to her breast, cupping the tender mound gently while his thumb circled ever inward, moving closer and closer to her nipple.

She gasped when he finally flicked the rosy bud lightly and let out a syllable that was supposed to be “more” but ended up just as a heady moan.

He deciphered her code, though, and lowered his head to her breast, nipping and biting and licking and…

Oh god! She couldn’t even begin to put words to what his mouth was doing to her, but she had _never_ felt anything like it. She gasped and sighed and moaned and chided herself for not being able to come up with some reaction to show just how _wonderful_ she really felt.

His tongue was flicking her nipple back and forth now, while his hand played with the other one, each keeping a different time and rhythm that worked in perfect counterpoint to each other. Buffy got the distinct feeling that he was the type of guy that could do the pat-your-head-and-rub-your-stomach-at-the-same-thing without the slightest difficulty.

Desperate to return some of the pleasure he was giving her, her hand strayed down between them until it found something large and cool and hard. He jerked within her hand when she first encircled him and then began thrusting slowly in and out of her clenching fist while she traced the pulsing veins there.

“Cor, Buffy!” he whimpered against her breast. “Feels so good…”

“Bet it would feel better inside me,” she countered with a coy smile.

He gave her a mock scowl and reached down into the wet folds beneath him. One finger skimmed around the entrance to her womb, lighting off sparks through the sensitive nerves there.

“Please, Spike…” she begged, arcing her hips up to give him better access.

The finger slipped within her, and her muscles clenched around it instinctively, a small orgasm passing through just at this first penetration. By the time she came back to herself, a second finger was within her, stretching out her inner walls and preparing her. A third soon joined it, opening her up wide for him.

“You want me?” His speech was desperate and ragged, the effort of keeping from plunging right into her obviously taking its toll.

Buffy gulped. “I want you,” she whispered softly.

His eyes met hers and held her gaze, neither of them even daring to blink as he guided himself to her entrance.

She felt the velvety soft skin of his head lightly rubbing past her outer folds and gasped.

Then, with one strong, sure stroke, he was within her, buried up to the hilt.

“Oh my god…” Buffy moaned, clutching him to her as their bodies began to thrust in perfect time with each other.

He lay his head down against her shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut tight as his hips thrusted in and out of her blazing inferno over and over again.

Buffy planted kisses throughout his soft, platinum hair, all the while still stunned at how big he was, how good he felt, how her walls molded around him just perfectly… It was absolute agony each time he pulled out of her.

“Buffy,” Spike finally said, raising himself up above her once more. “’ve never felt anything like this before…”

“Me either,” she agreed softly, catching one of his hands and twining their fingers together.

He took the opportunity to pull her arm up over her head, catching her other hand and well and moving it to the same position, stretching her out beneath him. The new position gave him the added leverage to increase the strength of his thrusts, and soon their hips were slamming together with superhuman intensity.

Buffy cried out and wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside of her. She gasped in astonishment when he found the most tender and secret spot within her, and he redirected his angle to strike it with every push.

Their rhythm fast and frantic, they met in a demanding kiss, lips angling, teeth biting, tongues thrusting and parrying.

Spike felt her inner heat begin to overpower him, his sac clenching in anticipation. A slight circular motion in his hips, and he ground her clit on the way in before striking her g-spot once more.

She screamed out his name as she fell over the edge, her Slayer muscles clenching and milking him of the cool ropy squirts of semen that shot into her womb.

“I love you, Buffy,” he whispered against her cheek with the last of his strength when the ecstasy became too much to bear.

“Oh, Spike… I love you, too,” she murmured before dissolving into a pool of Jell-O beneath him.

For a long time they just lay there, completely spent, pondering the strange emotional turn their relationship had taken and trying to figure out how on earth they each let themselves even _get_ to this point.

Finally, they both decided to just worry about the moment, and Buffy flipped him onto his back, smiling as she felt him harden again still within her, and began to ride him for all she was worth…

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Willow said for the umpteenth time when the spell fizzled out before her. “There’s just too much interference. I can’t get a trace.”

“You said you’d be able to find them!” Riley insisted, pounding his fist into the kitchen counter angrily.

“N-Normally I would,” Willow agreed, a bit put off by his displays of temper, “but the spell’s a bit sensitive to emotional energy, and…it’s just temporary. We should try again in an hour when their emotions are less…intense.”

“That ‘intensity’ is why we have to find them right now,” Riley demanded.

“Th-They could just be arguing or-or fighting or something,” Tara tried to calm him down.

Riley snorted derisively. “You saw them in the cave,” he turned to Xander. “It’s not ‘fighting’ that’s short-circuiting the spell.”

“Yeah,” Xander agreed slowly, “I saw them…” _And I’ve never seen either of them look that genuinely happy before, so maybe you should get out of denial that they’re under some spell and grow up already…_

“Try the spell again,” Riley insisted.

“They’ve got to be tired by now,” Jonathan pointed out, trying to mediate between the enraged Initiative agent and the Scoobies.

“Try. It. Now,” he repeated through clenched teeth.

“We’ll just wait another hour first,” Willow insisted. “I doubt they’re done…er…”

“Having orgasms?” Anya suggested perkily.

Willow’s face turned a deep crimson. “Wait an hour,” she repeated.

“We’ve already tried that four times,” Riley growled, stalking out the door and slamming it shut behind him on a quest to find Buffy himself…


	9. Aftershocks

“Guys,” Xander said nervously, “I think we need to stop him.”

Five curious heads turned in his direction.

“What do mean?” Giles asked, his brow furrowed.

Xander sighed. “Riley kind of…lost it back in the cave,” he finally admitted. “I tried to stop him from firing, and he practically strangled me. I think he’s gone slightly over the edge – enough to hurt Buffy.”

“B-But Riley wouldn’t do that!” Willow protested, her opinion of the Initiative agent wavering.

“Did you see his aura?” Tara pointed out. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone that angry…”

“He practically turned his back on the commandos for Buffy,” Willow pointed out.

“That was before Buffy started having sex with someone else,” Anya pointed out. “It looks like they’ve reached the vengeance stage of their relationship. And, trust me, I know about the vengeance. It isn’t pretty.”

Reluctantly, Willow agreed, remembering all the painful death threats she’d promised she would carry out on Riley if he hurt Buffy and preparing herself to carry them out if need be…metaphorically, of course.

“I should be able to track him,” Jonathan agreed. “I’ll go.”

“I’m going with you,” Xander insisted.

Jonathan looked about to object for a second but then conceded his point. “Willow, Tara, keep trying the tracking spell. If you can get to Buffy and Spike first, you can cut Riley off.” He turned back to Xander. “Let’s go,” he said with a grimace.

* * *

“Mmm…” Buffy slowly opened her eyes to the feel of cool breath brushing her temple. She yawned and smacked her lips once before cuddling back into the pale crook of Spike’s neck. His occasional random breaths continued to tease the short hairs across her forehead, and she let out a contented little sigh.

The angle of the light against the blinds indicated to her that most of the afternoon had passed while they slept. She craned her neck to make sure that they were closed properly before returning her attention to her newfound lover.

He murmured slightly in his sleep, soft mewls and purrs that alternated with the unnecessary breaths he took. Buffy took a moment to memorize his sleeping features, so peaceful and calm and beautiful. And so seemingly innocent. If she hadn’t known first hand that he was a creature of darkness, she would never have believed that this god beside her was anything but the purest white.

The narrowness of the standard issue dorm bed had forced the two of them to press up right against each other as they slept, but now Buffy inched back from him a bit to look at him more completely. The only other time she’d really had a chance to observe him this closely was during Willow’s spell, and she’d been too preoccupied with the kissing…and the Giles blindness and demons attacking Xander…and then the more kissing to really study him. And she’d _never_ gotten such a good view before.

Every inch of his body lay bare and open to her inspection, and all of him was so beautiful to her. Her eyes followed the gentle curve of his throat to the strong line of his collarbone, down across the planes of his chest to the firm muscles of his abdomen that twitched slightly when he breathed. His cock was only semi-hard and still resting in the wiry curls at the junction of his thighs.

She studied him a bit and finally determined that his natural hair color must have been brown. She had always guessed black from the color of his eyebrows, but the truth lay right there before her.

She could see the line of one lean, white hip, but exposing him further would have required pulling the blanket back further from him, and it seemed such a crime to disturb the tranquility of the gorgeous vampire beside her.

Instead, she curled back up against him, appreciating the feel of him all the more now that she had a clear picture of every rippling muscle in her head. Strangely enough, that moment seemed more intimate to her than everything they had done the evening before. Just _being_ here with him, in his embrace…

She let out another sigh. “I love you so much,” she whispered softly, one of her hands gently stroking his hair.

He stirred a bit at this, and one of his arms reached out instinctively to wrap around her waist and pull her to him. He nuzzled against her throat lightly, still half-asleep but slowly returning to consciousness.

She gave him a radiant smile when his long lashes finally fluttered open and she was met with twin brilliant blue orbs. “’Morning, handsome,” she teased lightly before giving him a quick, chaste kiss.

He sighed, and then frowned slightly, his head cocked to one side as if gauging something.

“What?” she asked curiously.

“’S mid-afternoon,” he finally commented, a teasing smile on his lips. Lazily, his hand glided down her side.

“Guess that means you can’t leave for a while yet,” she said slyly, “not until the sun goes down…”

“’m trapped, baby,” he agreed happily, laying his head back down on the pillow.

She wound her hand around his waist and pressed their bodies close together as they just lay there, touching and kissing lightly.

She felt the heat ignite in her body once more at his nearness, and her hand snaked down between them to encourage him to ‘rise to the occasion’.

Surprisingly, however, he batted her hand aside.

“Bi- _Buffy_ ,” he quickly corrected himself, a slight frown marring his brow, “we should talk, luv.”

She groaned. “Why talk?” She bit her lip petulantly. “Talk bad. No talk. Want you now.”

A smile twitched at the edges of his lips. “Want you too, kitten,” he agreed, “but what happened…”

“Regrets?” she asked nervously, her eyes suddenly widening with fear. This was it. Get too attached and they just run off and—

“No,” he quickly reassured her, brushing the hair back from her face, “no regrets, just…me vampire, you Slayer… ‘S not right, kitten.”

“It feel right last night,” she reminded him. “It felt better than right, it felt… _wonderful_ …”

He chuckled slightly. “No arguin’ there,” he agreed. “I jus’…” he trailed off, unsure of himself.

“Tell me,” she said softly, cupping his cheek with her palm. “Let me in.” She hadn’t meant for the pleading tone to be in her voice; it just was.

He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. “I can’t help feelin’,” he began, looking her right in the eyes and cautiously reaching out to stroke her hair, “that I shouldn’t be reactin’ to you like I am. ‘m a _vampire_ for cryin’ out loud! The very thought of you should make me homicidal and repulsed an’…an’ why do I want you?”

“Mmm…” she giggled slightly. “Similar thoughts crossed through my mind. But you know what?” He cocked a curious eyebrow in her direction, and she went on. “I don’t care. All I know is that last night was probably the best of my life, and…I don’t ever want it to end. So I don’t care if this is ‘wrong’. It’s not wrong for me, and hopefully it’s not for you, either.” She gave him a shy little smile.

“No,” he reassured her, a surprisingly endearing shy little smile of his own on his lips. “’S not like I give a damn ‘bout what anyone else thinks anyway. But I jus’ wanna know…when? Why? How?”

She didn’t need clarification to know that he was referring to her little admission. “When?” she said thoughtfully. “I don’t know exactly. I would have said just last night, but now that I think about it, there were signs earlier. After Will’s spell? Before that? There were definite lusty feelings before that.”

“’m not too concerned about the lust, pet. _That_ I understand…”

“But you don’t understand why I love you?” she asked softly.

He looked slightly abashed at the fact that she’d said the words again. Frankly, he’d been half convinced that it was one of those heat of the moment things…

“Not jus’ that,” he sighed, rolling over onto his back as much as the narrow bed would allow and coming to rest against the wall, “but ‘s as good a place to start as any.”

She curled up beside him and let one hand rest on his smooth chest, her finger caressing the sleek muscles there. “I can’t fully explain, of course,” she began. “But you make me feel strong. And you make me feel beautiful. And you make me laugh, and you make me furious, and you make me burn.” Her thumb found one flat, male nipple and began playing with it experimentally. “And when I’m with you…” she blushed, “I feel like you understand me, like you _get_ me…”

“I do get you,” he insisted. “No one’s ever made as much sense to me as you do.”

Her smile brightened at his admission. She’d actually been a bit concerned that she was manufacturing a lot of that last part because she so _wanted_ it to be true…

“I can be myself around you,” she added softly. “It’s like I can be all of me at once, Slayer, woman, child, adult, confident…scared. I feel so _natural_ around you, like I don’t have to hide anything.”

His eyes raked up and down her naked body, and he licked his lips. “You’d better not hide anythin’ from me, luv,” he joked.

She batted him playfully in the head. “I hate you,” she grumbled.

“That’s not what you were sayin’ when I was poundin’ you into the mattress,” he teased.

She gave him a sly smile. “Then maybe you should try pounding me into the mattress again,” she suggested coyly.

“Not too sore for another round?” he grinned.

“I’m good to go,” she agreed, wrapping one leg around his waist.

“Couldn’t hardly move your legs last night, though,” he said, his chest slightly puffed up with manly pride, “not after I was through with you.”

“What can I say, baby?” She bit his earlobe. “Slayer healing and all…”

“That combined with the Slayer stamina an’ Slayer strength an’ Slayer muscles makes for a most… _appealin’_ package, too, luv,” he groaned and pulled her up on top of him.

And then she lowered herself down onto him and showed him just how well she’d recovered…

* * *

Catching up to Riley had actually been remarkably easy. Especially since he used the same standard grid pattern every single time he patrolled.

He looked especially annoyed to see them but held his tongue on account of Jonathan’s presence: the other man clearly outranked him.

“You’re never going to find them this way,” Xander pointed out, still panting heavily from his recent run and leaning against a nearby tree to steady himself.

“This is the most efficient pattern for covering the campus,” Riley declared, casting Xander a dark look.

“Yeah…if they’re just hanging out in the middle of the quads in broad daylight,” Xander retorted, deciding that he liked Riley less with each passing second.

Riley frowned and struggled to come up with a valid retort, but Jonathan stepped in before things turned nasty.

“The most efficient technique,” he informed Riley with a stern look, “was to stay at Giles’ and wait for Willow to complete the tracking spell.”

“It wouldn’t have worked in time,” Riley retorted. “They need to be stopped now.”

“I hate to break it to you,” Xander repeated for the umpteenth time, “but Buffy wasn’t in any danger.”

“That _thing_ was about to rape her!” Riley’s eyes widened in horror at the other man’s callousness.

“Y’know, technically force is required for it to be rape…”

“He’s brainwashed her!” Riley insisted. “Why else would she let him touch her?!”

“Maybe because her boyfriend’s turned out to be a paranoid psycho?!” Xander shot right back at him.

“And Spike’s _sooo_ much better?” Riley demanded sarcastically. “It’s a thrall!”

“Like Anya said earlier, if Spike had a thrall, he would have used it long ago.”

“Oh, and since your demon fuck toy said it, it must be true!”

Riley’s head snapped back at the force of Xander’s punch.

“Don’t you _ever_ talk about her that way!” Xander screamed in outrage, a murderous rage in his eyes.

Riley wiped the blood from his mouth furiously. “I should have known you side with _them_ ,” he hissed. “After all, what else should I expect from a _demon lover_?”

“Yeah, and your girlfriend’s finding out right now just how much better demon lovers are,” Xander retorted spitefully.

“Only because of a spell!” Riley insisted. “Buffy would _never_ willingly touch that… _vampire_.”

Xander rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah,” he muttered under his breath, “’cause Buffy’s never gone for the hot vamp in town before…”

“What are you insinuating?” Riley hissed.

“If you don’t know, then that just proves you know even less about Buffy than I first thought,” Xander countered.

Riley shook his head. “It’s a spell,” he insisted. “Just a spell. Buffy would never… No!”

“There is no spell!” Xander exclaimed in frustration. “In fact—”

“There is,” Jonathan finally commented, breaking up the argument that had been spiraling out of control before his very eyes.

“What?” Xander turned to look at him in surprise, while Riley’s face showed a triumphant grin.

“There’s a spell,” Jonathan repeated, “and it’s starting to get out of control. I say it’s high time we break it…”

* * *

“This is going to take forever, isn’t it?” Anya complained, idly fingering Tara’s bedspread. The tracking spell had worked for a bit, leading them towards campus until it fizzled out again, and their guide vanished. Tara’s room had been nearest, so they’d gone there to try recasting. “Vamps have almost endless stamina,” she continued. “This could go on for days…”

Giles massaged the pressure points on the bridge of his nose and tried desperately not to invoke the image Anya’s comments brought to mind.

“Ha!” Willow abruptly exclaimed as the guiding tug returned to her hand, the feel almost like that of an invisible hand pulling her in the right direction. “We’ve got it again!”

The four of them practically ran to follow the path directed before Willow, hoping to get close before the sexcapades resumed again and the spell died once more. However, this time it began to lead them away from campus, in a direction almost at a right angle to their previous path.

“Are you sure the spell’s still trained on Spike?” Tara asked anxiously as they entered the edge of the woods.

“The sun just set,” Giles commented. “Spike could easily be on the move again.”

“I wonder why he’d go out into the middle of the woods,” Willow said thoughtfully, slowing her pace a bit since Buffy and Spike probably wouldn’t be doing the wacky if they were moving around again.

“To make my life miserable,” Anya groused, pulling her hair free of the branch it had been caught in. “After all, that seems to be the entire point of this day. And I was just getting to the really juicy parts of Jonathan’s book, too…”

* * *

“You’re sure you’re not just wandering around aimlessly?” Buffy repeated for the third time.

“This thing’s scent trail is crazy all over the place,” Spike growled out with irritation. “Must’ve been walkin’ in circles…”

“I think you’re lost,” she accused.

“I’m _not_ lost!” he protested vehemently.

“Liar.”

“’m not.”

“Are too.”

“’m not.”

“Are too.”

“Look,” he finally exclaimed, “will stop bein’ such a bossy, stuck-up…”

“…Stubborn, unreasonable…”

“…Annoyin’…”

“…Clueless…”

“… _Obnoxious_ …”

“… _Sexy_ …”

“…B— Did you jus’ say ‘sexy’, pet?” he broke off suddenly.

“Oh god, I want you,” she moaned, catching his head between her hands and pulling him down for a bruising kiss.

He returned her fervor full-heartedly, teeth biting, lips demanding, tongue battling. Their arms flew over each other desperately, seeking to touch, caress, reclaim everything that they’d explored the night before.

Buffy finally pulled away for breath, panting heavily.

Spike was a bit breathless himself until he remembered that he didn’t need to breathe. “We’ve got to find the beastie, Berry,” he reminded her. “Then we can kill it, fix everything, an’ have ourselves a nice, long shag.”

“It’s Buffy,” she hissed, her eyes flashing, “and you should remember it since you were screaming it nonstop just a few hours ago…”

“Whatever you say, Bonnie,” he teased.

“Bonnie?” she said with a sly smile. “Does that make you Clyde?” She pulled him in for another quick kiss.

“’ll play the Clyde to your Bonnie any day, luv,” he said with a soft purr when she finally released him again.

“Later,” she nodded dumbly, her body still protesting from when she pulled away from him. “There’ll be time for everything later…”

“Later,” Spike agreed. He attempted to pick up the scent again and frowned at her. “Could you try not to smell so delicious? ‘S a bit distractin’…”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Yes, I can randomly change my scent at will. That’s one of those amazing Slayer powers that I have.” She took a deep breath. “Maybe you could try being a bit less annoying,” she smiled softly, “’cause it’s _really_ turning me on…”

He gave her a sly smile and then picked up the trail again. He pushed past the bushes before them, and they both came to a dead halt when they saw the mouth to the cave.

“It in there?” Buffy asked nervously.

Spike nodded and laced his fingers with the hand that sought his.

“We have to go in,” Buffy said confidently, gaining strength from his touch.

“Jus’ be careful, luv,” Spike said softly.

She turned to smile at him. “I love you,” she informed him before marching into the cave, Spike right on her heels…


	10. Back To Reality

Xander and Riley started with surprise when they saw the rest of the Scooby Gang emerge from the bushes on the other side of the clearing. Jonathan, however, just gave their four friends a grim nod, resigned to the fact that everything was falling into place and the result was inevitable.

“Oh, good,” Willow said, flashing the three men a smile, “I was kinda starting to wonder if maybe the tracking spell had latched onto something else.”

Jonathan spared her a tight smile and continued to follow the slight tingle of the mark on his back that always let him know where the monster he had created was. It brought his path directly parallel to Willow’s.

“We’re tracking the monster,” he informed Willow. “Buffy and Spike are trying to kill it.”

“Oh,” Willow said, slightly confused, but she could tell by Jonathan’s tone that now was not the time to press the issue.

Anya had no such tact, however. “If Spike’s brainwashed Buffy, then why would they go try to kill a monster?” she asked.

“Buffy’s not brainwashed,” Xander said simply, wrapping his arm around her as they continued to follow their twin guides deeper into the woods. “She’s herself.”

Riley’s eyes narrowed, but he made no comment.

The tense silence hung over the group as they made their way through the maze of trees until finally they could hear sounds in the distance. Several curious looks were exchanged, but as they approached it became all too clear that what they were hearing were the sounds of battle…

* * *

“Slayer, look out!”

Buffy barely managed to roll to the side in time to avoid the monster’s fist. She continued to roll several more times until she was sure she was out of range before she shakily returned to her feet.

Spike had jumped the creature from behind while she was escaping. He had long since lost the small dagger he’d brought from her dorm room, and she once again cursed the fact that all her heavy artillery had been at Giles’ for re-sharpening. They could definitely have used some sturdier equipment.

Spike was nothing if not resourceful, though. His right hand managed to find the blade of Buffy’s dagger that had broken off in the thing’s side, and he twisted it viciously, causing the monster to roar in pain and slam the vampire on its back hard into the wall.

Spike slumped to the floor just as Buffy returned to the battle, catching the creature’s head with the flat heal of her boot before it had a chance to injure Spike further. She leapt back in time to escape a wide sweep of its claws, but lost her balance when she landed, her foot catching on a jagged rock. She managed to maintain her footing, but she was off just enough that she couldn’t fully evade the next blow.

She bit back a hiss of pain when she felt razor-sharp claws graze her stomach, the cuts not deep enough to incapacitate her but still bad enough to bleed and sting like hell.

She responded with a strong left cross to the beast’s jaw. Its head snapped back, and before it could right itself again, Spike had caught a hold of its throat from behind and began to squeeze.

Buffy took the opportunity given her to land a bone-snapping kick to the creature’s right knee and a hard punch to the stomach.

It howled in pain and stilled for the second Spike needed to snap its neck from behind.

They both paused.

And then the monster screamed in outrage, catching Spike by the shirt and throwing him into Buffy with supernatural strength.

The two lovers collided, but Spike somehow managed to twist to the side just enough that he didn’t land on top of Buffy when they fell to the ground.

“Bloody hell!” he gasped, dodging to the side as the creature slammed into the ground right where the two of them had just been. “What does it take to kill this thing?!”

“Lop off its head,” Buffy suggested from the other side of the enraged beast.

“With what?!” Spike demanded.

“Find,” duck, “something!” Block. Buffy began to give ground as the monster slashed and snarled at her like a cornered animal, never giving her a moment’s respite.

Spike searched around for his lost dagger, saw that it was behind Buffy, and let out a sigh of hopeless exasperation. “’m gonna hate myself for this in the mornin’,” he muttered, rolling his eyes heavenward, before he tackled the beast from behind once more.

“Spike, you’ve already tried—” Buffy stopped abruptly, and her eyes widened at the vampire’s latest, oh-so-unpleasant strategy.

Spike’s fangs sunk deep into the beast’s shoulder, and he fought back the instinctive gag reflex when some of the creature’s yellow, oozing blood got into his mouth.

Buffy watched his demonic features contort in disgust and realized that this latest foolhardy plan had to have an ulterior motive. She looked around, spotted the dagger, and scooped it up all while the beast writhed under the assault of needle-sharp fangs.

“Let go!” Buffy commanded just before she swung the blade at the monster’s throat.

Spike jumped back, spitting in revulsion at the foul taste in his mouth.

And Buffy’s blade struck the creature’s neck…and got lodged halfway through.

“Damn you!” Buffy screamed, swinging at the thing’s neck. “Why. Won’t. You. Just. Die?!”

It fell to its knees under the force of her continued blows.

“Think you’re finally gettin’ to it, luv,” Spike commented, still trying to spit the nasty aftertaste from his mouth.

As if in response to his statement, there was a strangled cry from the entrance of the cave. Buffy and Spike spun around in surprise to see the Scoobies gathered en masse at the opening, all surrounding a shrieking Jonathan.

“I’m hurting him!” Buffy exclaimed in horror, turning to Spike.

The vampire gave her a helpless, bewildered look. “That shouldn’t happen…” His brow furrowed.

In the meantime, the lamentably unkillable monster in question took advantage of Buffy’s distraction to lunge up at her. It tackled her back onto the ground and…

There was a moment of silence.

Everyone gaped.

And then Anya snorted.

Her snort was followed immediately by Tara’s.

And then Willow’s.

It quickly spread to Xander, Buffy, and Spike.

Giles finally caved in and joined what was fast becoming hysterical laughter.

Riley just looked confused.

Jonathan didn’t look up at all as he felt the power fade from him. In all fairness, though, the experience wasn’t exactly pleasant.

Nearly weeping from her mirth, Buffy rolled the monster off of her…as well as the six crossbow bolts and one dagger that had all impacted the beast’s back in the space of only a millisecond.

“Who says slaying’s not a team sport?” she managed to get out between giggles.

The monster groaned, and Buffy sighed.

“Die already!” she exclaimed in frustration, finally ripping the thing’s head from its shoulders. It vanished in a bright white flash. “Finally…” she began, turning back to Spike.

And then it happened.

Another wave of bright light flashed through the cave, and suddenly the world tilted, shifted…

Memories bombarded Buffy’s mind, restoring the natural flow of the universe. Only the subtlest variations on the pivotal events of her life…but paralyzing changes nonetheless. If Buffy had had the presence of mind to look at Spike’s face at that moment, she would have seen the same memories in his eyes…

 _Flash!_ Jonathan’s presence is removed from the high school on parent-teacher night, and it’s Buffy who Spike nearly impales on the pole. And it’s Buffy who humiliates Spike for the very first time in battle.

 _Flash!_ Halloween. Two and a half years ago. Jonathan doesn’t step in to save Buffy’s life. It’s Buffy herself that beats Spike down once again.

 _Flash!_ Buffy is suddenly the one who holds the blade to Drusilla’s throat, threatening to destroy the only thing Spike really cares about…

 _Flash!_ An abandoned church. Buffy and Spike are now the two engaged in mortal combat. Spike breaks free for just long enough to grab hold of Drusilla. He nearly makes his escape when something impacts him hard from behind. He crashes forward into the organ as flames begin to lick at the dried wood around them. All that time in the wheelchair: suddenly _her_ fault…

 _Flash!_ That first tentative alliance. Spike carries an unconscious Drusilla and looks casually over his shoulder to see Angelus and Buffy fighting to the death. He turns away disinterestedly. After all, he’s got what he came for. Let the Slayer kill her wayward lover all by herself…

 _Flash!_   “Guess you’re not worth a second go. Come to think of it, seems like someone told me as much. Who was that? Oh, yeah. Angel.” Buffy is enraged. She catches hold of Spike’s wrist and yanks the ring from his hand. He barely dives through the manhole in time, sizzling in the sun as he goes. The Gem of Amara, invincibility, everything gone because of _her_.

 _Flash!_

 _Flash!_

 _Flash!_

Buffy’s eyes widen as the attacks on her multiply exponentially within her head. Harsh, bitter words that sting for weeks afterward, threats, kidnappings, and on and on and on and…there it is. That pure, unbridled hatred that had built up within her over the years.

Spike flinches back as if slapped when everything that has gone wrong with his unlife can suddenly be traced back to _her_. With every defeat, he sees her face standing over him. Buffy winning in battle after battle, crippling him, bringing back Angelus, turning Dru against him, taking the Gem of Amara, and finally distracting him while the soldiers kidnap him and stick the chip in his brain.

“Oh…god!” Buffy exclaimed in horror when reality finally reasserted itself.

Spike quickly withdrew the hand that he had offered her and backed away, only rage and fury visible in eyes that until recently held so much love.

And Buffy was sure that the same affection that had been in her eyes vanished as well.

Both felt as if they’d just been punched right in the stomach, a sickening feeling ten times worse than when Willow’s Thy Will Be Done spell ended. Because this time the love had been real, and now it was gone, destroyed by a world in which it was impossible. And both couldn’t help but mourn the loss for a split second, even if neither would ever admit it aloud.

“Huh,” Anya commented from the doorway. “That was weird.” She turned to Xander. “Don’t you think that was weird, honey?”

Xander couldn’t help but nod numbly and stare at where Jonathan was painfully rising to his feet. “Y-You’re not real!” he finally accused, pointing his finger at the former superstar.

“Uh…sorry?” Jonathan whimpered nervously, his former resolution to end the spell suddenly not seeming like such a good idea. He backed into the cave wall as the entire Scooby Gang turned their attention to him with the exceptions of Spike and Buffy.

“What happened?” Riley demanded, confused.

“A s-spell?” Giles suggested, equally bewildered.

“You made us all believe you were, like, an ultra-Slayer?” Willow frowned.

Then, several voices in unison. “Why?”

“I-I-I…” Jonathan stuttered hopelessly, too flustered to defend himself…not like he could really defend his actions anyway.

Fortunately, he was taken out of the spotlight by the scene playing out between the two former lovers behind him.

“Oh no…” Buffy whispered, wrapping her arms around herself, desperately seeking comfort.

Spike’s eyes narrowed at her reaction. “Tha’s how it is, ‘ey Slayer?” he said with feigned disinterest.

“ _Spike_ ,” she spat the word out like it was a bad taste in her mouth.

Hurt flashed in his eyes for a second, before it faded into his traditional cocky grin. “Yeah, well, ‘s been fun, Slayer. See you dead.” He turned to exit the cave.

“If I ever see you again,” Buffy retorted, her icy words halting him in his tracks, “ _you’ll_ be the one who’s dead.”

A deadly smile twisted up the edges of his lips. “Can’t’ve been _that_ bad, luv,” he teased. “Or maybe I was too good. That what’s got your knickers in a twist? Still want me?”

White-hot rage burned in Buffy’s eyes, and her hands clenched into fists. “Like I would ever, _ever_ touch you!” she exclaimed. “You disgust me! You’re an evil _thing_ , and you’re lucky I’ve let you live this long. Now, get out! I _never_ want to see you again!”

“Like ‘d want to be with the Slayer, anyway,” he scoffed, his tone bitter, biting. “Can see why they all leave you now, luv,” he growled. “After all, you’re really not worth it, are you?” And then he was gone, disappeared into the blackness outside the cave.

And Buffy fell to the floor in tears.

Riley was at her side in an instant, wrapping his arms around her and holding her to him. “Buffy, are you all right?” he asked, worried. “He didn’t hurt you, did he? _Did_ he? Because if he did…” He left the threat unfinished.

Buffy managed to shake her head, despite her tears. “N-No, he didn’t… Oh god!” She began crying anew.

“Shh…it’s OK,” Riley soothed her. “He’s gone now, and I’ll make sure you never have to see him again.”

Buffy managed to nod meekly and put herself together again, suppressing the instinctive pang she felt at the thought of never seeing Spike again. “I-I’m OK,” she said shakily. “Really. Just…not a good spell.”

“Speaking of which,” Giles turned the infamous Ripper-stare on Jonathan, and Jonathan yelped in response.

“Let him go, Giles,” Buffy said wearily. “The spell’s not designed to cause harm…well, except for the monster, that is.”

“I swear, the guy who gave it to me glossed right over that part,” Jonathan pleaded desperately.

Buffy raised her eyebrows at this but made no comment. “I just want to get some sleep,” she finally declared. “Being on the run from you guys really takes a lot out of a girl…” _Just like falling madly in love only to lose it again over some stupid spell does._

“Let’s go home then,” Riley said with a small smile, wrapping his arm around her waist. “We’ve got a lot of making up to do.”

Buffy gave him a weak smile. “Yeah,” she said unenthusiastically…


	11. Fond Memories

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief when Riley took her excuse that she was worn out at face value and departed. Although she could have lived without the quick peck on the lips… Something about his kiss just felt… _revolting_ to her. She mentally slapped herself for being so mean and then changed her mind. She was just being truthful, after all, and not lying to herself was definitely of the good.

Willow was silent the entire way into the dorm. She fiddled with the keys to their room for a second before opening the door, flicking on the lights, and depositing Spike’s duster on the chair by Buffy’s computer.

Buffy stepped into the room nervously, memories of what she would have called the best night of her life only a few hours ago nearly overwhelming her. Her bedding was still messed up, but fortunately she’d never been big on making her bed so Willow didn’t even notice. She silently thanked Spike’s presence of mind last night that he’d opened the windows and allowed the scent of sex to be aired out of the room.

With a wistful sigh, she shut and bolted the door behind her and began to slip out of her clothes and into her pajamas.

Willow mirrored her actions, biting her lip and occasionally glancing up until Buffy couldn’t take it anymore.

“What is it, Wills?” Buffy asked, sitting on the edge of her bed tentatively. Here, she could still smell him, feel the cool silk of his skin as he moved beneath the sheets with her, hear his husky voice thick with his accent as he whispered his love to her… _Get a grip, Buffy!_ She mentally slapped herself. _Vampire plus Slayer equals BAD!_

“A-About what happened?” Willow picked up a bit of the stuttering habit she’d lost years back over the awkwardness of this situation.

Buffy just looked at her expectantly.

Willow took a deep breath. “Are you all right, Buffy?” she finally asked. “I mean, I know you and Spike…” She trailed off, her face flaming bright red. “And I figured you might not want to talk about it with Riley there…”

Buffy managed to let out a snort of laughter at that. “Definitely not able to handle Riley right now,” she agreed with a small smile.

“And I can so get that,” Willow agreed. “After all, you and Spike did…” gulp, “…have sex…” The last two words were whispered as if this were the biggest secret in the world.

Buffy sighed and collapsed back on her mattress. Her pillow _really_ smelled like him: smoke and leather and that delicious spicy, male Spike scent… “Not sex,” she whispered softly into her pillow, inhaling deeply and remembering their night here together in excruciating detail.

Willow, blissfully unaware of the associations Buffy held with that bed and that pillow, frowned slightly. “What?” she asked, confused.

“Spike and I didn’t have sex…” Buffy repeated, a little louder.

“Oh!” Willow flushed with embarrassment. “But the tracking spell shorted out and—”

“…We made love,” the Slayer clarified, rolling onto her back and staring up at the ceiling. She pulled the blanket up over herself, and she could almost imagine that its weight was that of a cool, muscular arm wrapped lazily around her waist…

“Oh!” Willow exclaimed. Then her brow furrowed. “Oh…god… Buffy, I’m…sorry?” She lay on her side on her own bed, uncertain if this was the right response.

She managed to give the witch a small smile. “Thanks,” she sighed deeply, taking the cool night air into her lungs and holding it there for a minute, remembering his cool breath against hers. “It’s all right, though,” she added with false confidence. “It was never meant to be, and now it’s not anymore. So everything’s just peachy again.”

Willow just lay there quietly for a minute, trying to decipher her best friend’s behavior. “You mean you just… _don’t_ anymore?” she finally asked, more than a little unconvinced.

“No,” Buffy insisted too quickly, too vehemently. She laughed nervously. “Spell, right? No real feelings there…”

“But the purpose of the spell wasn’t to make you l-love him,” Willow tripped over the vital word in that sentence, her face coloring once again, “not like when I…er, _accidentally_ got the two of you engaged. This was just a side-effect.”

“Purpose, side-effect, whatever!” Buffy insisted. “There’s nothing there!”

“OK,” Willow said quickly, wide-eyed and obviously still not quite believing Buffy. “It’s just that I know if it were me, and suddenly there was spell with feelings and nakedness, and then it went away…”

“What do you want me to say?” Buffy asked wearily, resigned to the fact that she couldn’t get out of this conversation. Hell, she’d never been able to fool Willow anyway. “That I love him?”

“Do you?” Willow persisted nervously. Hearing that her best friend had fallen for another vampire wasn’t exactly on her list of top ten fun things to do on a Friday night.

Buffy’s jaw clenched, and her eyes went cold. “He’s a vampire,” she said confidently, “I’m the Slayer. I could never love him.” She cast a nervous glance to where Spike’s duster rested over the back of her computer chair and could almost, _almost_ imagine that he’d just stepped out for a second and was coming right back…

“You can’t,” Willow nodded. “I understand. But _do_ you?”

“My feelings are irrelevant,” Buffy’s voice shook slightly despite her determination to stay strong, and a lone tear slipped down her face. “I have a sacred duty.”

“Oh, Buffy!” Willow exclaimed in shared anguish and sympathy. “I’m so, so sorry…”

Buffy tried to laugh, but it came out as a muffled sob instead. “Yeah, well, so am I. But it doesn’t change anything. Doesn’t change the fact that I—oh god!”

She burst out into tears, and Willow was at her side in a second, holding her and crying as well over loves that were so perfect they could never be…

* * *

Anya leaned against the stone wall and yawned as Xander paced back and forth in front of her indecisively.

“This is stupid,” he muttered to himself for the umpteenth time. “This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. I’m making an ass out of my self. I’ve got to be out of my mind.”

“Starting to agree with you on that last one…” Anya commented, rolling her eyes and taking another chewy bite off of her granola bar.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Xander decided for the hundredth time.

“ ‘But what if you’re right’,” Anya quoted, having learned this rant by heart over the past few hours.

“But what if I’m right?” Xander managed to remain completely oblivious to his girlfriend’s extreme boredom. “Things can’t just end like… _that_ , can they?”

“Argh!” Anya finally cried out in frustration. “Is this a human thing, or something? Worrying pointlessly about the same thing for hours and hours on end? Because it’s stupid!”

Xander looked at her, wide-eyed and properly chastised.

“Now, just go in there and _do_ it!” she exclaimed, pointing resolutely to the door. “ _Now_ , before I go insane, too!”

“You know,” Xander commented softly, taking in her flushed cheeks and fiery eyes, “I kinda love you…”

Anya’s eyes softened instantly, and she gave him a sultry little smile. “Well, maybe it can wait a _little_ bit,” she teased, pulling him back into the bushes…

* * *

“What about Riley?” Willow asked, back on her own bed again so that she wouldn’t muffle the sacred scent of Spike, watching Buffy absentmindedly pet the black leather duster the vampire had left behind.

Buffy grimaced. “ _So_ don’t want to think about him…” She buried her face in the soft, worn black leather and was suddenly very glad she’d ‘fessed up to Willow. Otherwise, this wonderful little reminder of him would by necessity be halfway across the room.

“You’re gonna have to, though,” Willow pointed out. “He’ll probably call bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“Ugh,” Buffy groaned. “Didn’t anyone ever tell that boy not to call a Slayer before noon?”

“Probably not,” Willow felt compelled to respond.

“Well, how about a college student then? You’re not supposed to call them before noon, either.”

“You’ve got me there,” Willow said with a small smile.

“Of course, does the Great Riley realize this? No! He assumes everyone else leaps out of bed at the stroke of five like he does and starts off their day with a healthy does of vitamins, push-ups, and Wheeties…because that’s _sooo_ much fun…”

“OK, I think I’m sensing a bit of Riley-hostility here,” Willow joked lightly.

“More like a huge, heaping pile of Riley-hostility with gravy on top,” Buffy sulked. “He shot me, Will. He used that taser on me, like I was nothing. And this is _after_ he sleeps with Faith while she’s in my body and _doesn’t even notice_! I’m starting to think me and Riley…”

“Not of the good?” Willow suggested.

“Of the bad,” Buffy agreed. “Of the phenomenally boring. Of the if you talk down to me one more time I’ll rip your throat out.”

“He is a bit…superior sometimes,” Willow agreed. “But I thought, sparkage?”

“No sparkage,” Buffy sighed. “Negative on the sparkage. Big positive on the feeling pressured to fake sparkage…”

“Buffy!” Willow said in surprise. “You should _never_ have to fake—”

“But you liked him so much,” Buffy insisted, “and he was nice and normal and everything that I was supposed to want. Everything that Angel said I was supposed to want…”

“So now you’re choosing your boyfriends based off of Angel’s opinion?” Willow snorted derisively. “Way to live constantly in your ex’s shadow, Buff.”

“But that’s why he left,” Buffy insisted, “so that I could have a normal life with a normal guy…”

“And you tried it, and guess what?” Willow responded, matter-of-factly. “You don’t _like_ the normal guys. You go straight for the supernatural one. Hell, I can’t say that I blame you. I’ve got a little thing for those of the supernatural persuasion as well. In fact, that pretty much _is_ normal on the Hellmouth.” She let a wicked little smile curl across her lips that was strangely reminiscent of Vamp Willow. “Plus, Spike’s got a sexy bod that would stop a charging elephant at fifty paces.”

“ _Willow_!” Buffy shrieked with horror, covering her hands with her face and blushing a deep maroon color.

Willow couldn’t help but chuckle evilly over her ability to tease her best friend about her latest love interest.

“What a minute!” Buffy’s head shot up when she was through being mortified. “When did _you_ get to see Spike’s sexy bod?!”

“Should’ve been at Giles’ when Spike ran in with the Initiative homing transmitter in his back,” Willow gave her a sly grin. “Shirtless Spike… It was almost enough to make me go for g—er, that kind of thing.” The young witch blushed a bit and hoped Buffy didn’t notice the slip-up about her newfound lesbianism.

Fortunately, the Slayer was reliving several of her own pleasant memories at the moment. “He is kinda…er, gorgeous, isn’t he?” she finally spit out, completely embarrassed that this was _Spike_ she was talking about. “And you wouldn’t _believe_ how good a kisser he is…”

“Well, I suppose you pick that up after a hundred and twenty years,” Willow agreed with a girlish giggle. It had been a long time since they’d talked boys like this.

“Oh, he picked up more than that,” Buffy winked at her. Then her eyes got this far away look, and a wave of nostalgia ran over her. “He would do this little thing, y’know?” she began fondly. “He would nuzzle into my hair, and he’d make the sweetest little noise. It was like a gasping breath and a purr and a growl all at once, and it made me just want to…” She gulped and fought back another round of tears.

“What?” Willow pressed softly.

“Hold him forever…”

* * *

“Spike?” Xander called out warily as he threw the door to the crypt open finally…and after much _persuasion_ from Anya.

Anya straightened her blouse a bit and walked right past him into the crypt.

“Spike?” Xander repeated before shaking his head. “I don’t think he’s here…”

Anya sighed. “You’ve got to stop falling for all the ‘vampire prey’ tricks, sweetie,” she informed him. “He’s right over there.”

Xander squinted into the darkness where she pointed for a moment. He was about to say that she was seeing things, when his focus finally seemed to make the darkness fade away, and there was the peroxide vampire, plain as day.

“Oh, bugger!” Spike groaned when he saw that his supernatural cover had been blown. He decided to go for offensive and rude – always a good bet – and swaggered into view, taking a deep swig of whiskey as he did so. “Sorry, Whelp,” he scowled at the two intruders, “but ‘f you and your li’l demon bint here are lookin’ for a nice, dirty hole to get you kinks out, you’ll ‘ave to go to some place uninhabited.”

“We’re not here for that,” Xander snapped back instinctively. “We’re looking for you.”

“Oh, a threesome now, is it?” Spike said with a wicked leer. “Too bad I missed the warm-up outside jus’ now…”

Anya’s eyes widened at the thought, and she licked her lips tentatively, noticing not for the first time just how good-looking Spike really was. “Xander?” she asked curiously.

“No!” Xander exclaimed in exasperation, looking back and forth between the demon and former demon with mild annoyance. “This isn’t about sex!”

“But I thought it was about sex,” Anya countered. “You said we had to come over here and discuss all the sex that’s been going on lately, so—”

“Ahn,” Xander cut her off before one of their baser urges derailed the conversation again.

“Right,” Anya nodded with resigned understanding.

“Well now, innit this fun?” Spike rolled his eyes and sat down on the stone sarcophagus since someone had destroyed his only chair… Not that he really minded, though. Just sitting here reminded him of their time together: reading the books they’d stolen, teasing and joking, thighs and arms casually brushing, all friendly and false innocence and all those other things he’d never had a chance to experience and was now aching for. He shook himself out of his introspection and put the cocky grin back on his face. “Better than a sitcom…”

“Spike,” Xander said sternly, “about the spell and the thing with Buffy…”

Spike sighed and lit up a cigarette. “This it, then? You gonna stake me ‘cause another spell went wonky? Or maybe you’re jus’ gonna stake me on principle?”

“ _Spike_!” Xander hissed in irritation. It really was a constant effort not to throttle the vampire when he decided to be annoying.

“Whelp,” he replied evenly.

Xander suddenly found himself unable to speak. This just wasn’t the sort of thing you said to a formerly homicidal vampire that had tried to kill you on multiple occasions.

Luckily, Anya wasn’t bothered by the awkwardness of this situation in the least. Xander knew there had always been a reason why he loved her.

“Xander’s worried that you fell in love with Buffy while you were under that spell,” she explained with characteristic bluntness, “and that you still are now. So, now that the spell’s over and Buffy’s no longer hanging out with you, you’ll either get really depressed and try to stake yourself or you’ll go off the evil deep end and find a way to try to kill everyone again.” She flashed Xander a bright smile after having managed to convey everything that it would take a guy several years to say in only a few seconds.

“Uh…yeah,” Xander said, nervously running his fingers through his hair. “Except less with the ‘worried about you’ and more with the ‘uh-oh, he’s not going to try to kill us, is he?’,” he amended, preserving his manly pride.

Spike was strangely quiet throughout all this, absentmindedly taking drags off his cigarette.

“So…yeah!” Xander looked at Spike, expecting some kind of reaction.

The vampire merely snorted. “ ‘Fell in love’? _Please_. Like I give a damn one way or another ‘bout…” He trailed off at the expression on Xander’s face and remembered that Xander had caught the two of them at their most lovey-dovey. He turned to look away abruptly, afraid of what the human would read in his eyes.

“Uh-huh,” Xander finally said when it seemed clear that Spike had no intention of finishing that thought. “That’s funny, y’know? ‘Cause when I saw the two of you in that cave…”

“Oh, bloody hell!” Spike threw his hands up in the air in exasperation, already bored with the lie he’d just concocted. “Yes, ‘m in love with your stupid Slayer! Happy now? Stake away!”

There was silence for a minute.

Finally, Spike nervously opened one eye, not even having been aware of the fact that he’d closed them in anticipation of his dusty demise.

Anya pulled another granola bar out of her pocket and began chewing it, looking back and forth between the two men curiously. “This is getting boring,” she commented, taking another bite and savoring the raisin she’d just bitten into. She turned to Xander. “Say something,” she ordered.

“I-I-I…” This had all worked out a lot better in Xander’s head. Actually, Xander hadn’t bothered to work it out in his head at all beforehand. He’d just dived right in out of some strange, bizarre sense of… _not-worry_. Yeah, that was it. Not-worry over Spike. And the vampire’s admission had kicked the not-worry up another several notches.

“Close your mouth, Harris,” Spike snarked. “You look like a bleedin’ flounder.”

Xander’s jaw shut with an audible snap. He desperately tried to come up with something to say to his former reluctant roommate that wouldn’t seriously piss him off. That pretty much ruled out any expression of sympathy. “She looked happy,” he finally settled on a choice after not too much thought.

Spike quirked an eyebrow at him in response.

“I didn’t see much,” Xander said a bit more confidently, “but she looked happy.”

“Yeah,” Spike said with a bitter smile, flicking away his cigarette and grinding it out with the toe of his boot.

“I really hate spells,” Xander sighed.

“Me, too,” Spike agreed softly. “Me, too…”

* * *

Buffy rolled over onto the pile of pillows and blankets against the wall and shut her eyes tight, trying to imagine that it was _him_ beside her. The feel of his leather duster against her inner thigh helped, but still…

Her bed had never felt so _cold_ before. And it was ridiculous; he didn’t even have any body heat. All there was was the heat that he reflected back off of her. But, oh that heat…

By the time they’d woken up, he’d been completely warmed by her embrace throughout the night, and he felt so, so good against her…

* * *

Spike awoke with a strangled cry as he fell over the edge of his sarcophagus onto the stone floor. _Fourth time tonight_ , he realized wearily, cursing and climbing back up onto his makeshift bed.

The problem was the dream. The one where the Slayer was lying right beside him in bed, and he would reach out of her but she wouldn’t be there, so he’d keep reaching further and inching over until it was floor time again.

“Bloody hell,” he groaned and lay on his back. He dared to close his eyes once more, and already the images of their one night together flooded his mind.

“What’ve you done to me, Buffy?” he asked the empty darkness of his crypt, her absence a palpable pain in his chest…

* * *

“I miss you so much, Spike,” she whispered softly, burying her head in the soft leather of his jacket and finally drifting off to sleep…


	12. DeNile’s Not Just a River in Egypt

“…And she’s been all mopey ever since,” Willow concluded, eating another bite of her pancakes.

“Maybe you should have stayed with her,” Xander suggested, wolfing down his sausages as he did so. “We could have rescheduled the whole weekly breakfast thing…”

“Nah, she’s OK,” Willow reassured him. “Besides, she’s meeting Riley for coffee this morning.”

“So soon?” Xander asked in surprise. “She sure got over Spike fast. Now I feel _really_ sorry for the guy…”

“Oh no,” Willow batted her hand in the air dismissively. “This is the break-up conversation.”

“Buff’s breaking up with Psycho Soldier Boy?” Xander’s eyes widened in surprise. “Yes! About time!” He pumped his arms in the air in victory.

Willow nodded. “I’m with you on this one. Riley’s so…”

“Boring? Bland? Dull? Militaristic? Momma’s boy?” Xander suggested in rapid succession.

Willow laughed. “On the nose,” she agreed. Then she sighed. “I feel really sorry for Buffy, though. She misses Spike so much…”

“Yeah, well, it’s more than mutual,” Xander informed her. “I swear I thought Spike was actually going to _cry_ there for a minute.”

“She’s just so worried about the Slayer/Vampire thing,” Willow said sadly. “She feels like being involved with him would be a violation of her sacred duty or something…”

“Exactly the same with Spike,” Xander agreed before frowning slightly, “…or exactly the opposite. Like it would violate his satanic duty instead.”

“They’re being stupid,” Willow decided.

“Oh yeah,” Xander agreed. “I mean, if they’re stuck working together and all…might as well try it out at least, right?”

She nodded. “But Buffy’s too stubborn to change her mind.”

“And so is Spike.”

“Argh! They’re annoying… _stubborn_ people!”

“Maybe they need a little help,” Xander said with a wry smile, spearing the last sausage with his fork for emphasis…

* * *

“Hey,” Riley’s face lit up when she settled down in the seat across from him. “How are you doing today?”

Buffy managed a tight smile. “All right,” she said vaguely, gesturing for the waitress to come over and take her order.

Riley watched her nervously fiddle with her napkin as she ordered her coffee and decided that the horrors of being forced to be that _thing’s_ sex slave were even worse than he had at first imagined. But it was all right. He would help her through this and bring her back into the purity of the light and they could be happy there forever, just like before.

“Do you want me to kill him?” he whispered conspiratorially when the waitress had gone.

Buffy’s face turned ashen white. “N-No…” she stuttered, her heart aching at the mere thought of a world without Spike. “No!” she repeated more vehemently, angry now. “Don’t you _dare_ touch him! He’s mine!”

“I understand,” Riley nodded solemnly. “You need to kill him yourself. That’s actually a good idea. It will break any lingering hold he has over you.” He squeezed her hand gently.

Buffy jerked it back as if it had been stung. “I’m not going to kill Spike,” she said in disbelief.

Riley frowned at this. He’d heard of the Stockholm Syndrome – the tendency of victims to sympathize with their attackers – but he’d never seen it before. “Why not?” he demanded casually, hoping to draw her back into the proper state of mind.

“He didn’t do anything wrong, for one,” Buffy shook her head. “Why would I want to kill him now?”

“How about because he _raped_ you?” he hissed in a low whisper, beginning to get a bit angry at her foolishness now.

“He didn’t rape me!” Buffy whispered as well, not wanting anyone to overhear this. “I consented. He consented. We were both more than willing. There was _nothing_ rape-like about it!”

Riley nodded. “Yeah, I can see how it might seem that way,” he informed her, “but it’s all right. There was a spell involved. It’s OK to say that you revoke your consent now that you’re in your right mind…”

“What?!” Buffy was outraged now. “Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?!” she demanded. “I _wanted_ to sleep with him. If anyone’s revoking consent after the fact, it’s him!”

“Buffy, you don’t really mean that,” Riley insisted, grabbing hold of her wrist and holding it tight. “You’ve made a good first step by coming to me for help, but you have to let go and admit that your… _dealings_ with that creature were wrong. You can talk to me, really. I know that it wasn’t your fault, so I’m not going to look down on you for what happened.”

“Look down on me?!” Buffy snatched her wrist from his grasp, needing every bit of her Slayer strength to do so. “How _dare_ you! There was _nothing_ sick or wrong about us!” she practically screamed. “We were very much in love. More than I was ever in love with _you_ , that’s for sure! And I didn’t meet with you to discuss this anyway. My relationship with Spike is _so_ not your business…”

“It’s very much my business,” Riley hissed, standing up as well and grabbing hold of her arm. “I’m your _boyfriend_ , remember? And given that I caught you screwing another guy, I think I’ve been very reasonable so far!”

By now the entire coffee shop was staring at the shouting match before them in rapt fascination.

“Yeah, well,” Buffy said, her voice cold as ice, “that brings me to what I came here for anyway. You know that whole ‘being my boyfriend’ thing? Well, you’re not anymore. It’s over. I don’t know what I saw in you in the first place.”

All the heads in the room looked over to Riley in unison.

Riley stood there in shock for a minute before his face turned livid with rage. “Oh, that’s it, huh? Taking the _coward’s_ way out again? You’re just afraid because you know I can’t really love you after the way you defiled yourself with that monster!”

Back to Buffy again.

“God, you are such a bigot!” Buffy exclaimed. “You know, I’d thought this would be hard, but you’re making it _sooo_ easy. I never want to see you again, Riley!”

Simultaneous head turns to Riley.

“You’re… _sick_!” he hissed. “You need serious help—”

“The only perverse thing I’ve ever done was get involved with you!”

“You’re just trying to cover so you won’t get hurt!”

“You’re so full of yourself, you didn’t even notice I was unhappy!”

“You’re afraid of intimacy, is your problem!”

“Yeah, I’m afraid of intimacy!” she exclaimed. “As long as it consists of lying under a smothering body that grunts like a pig and then having to go and get myself off in the shower afterwards!”

The heads in the room ping-ponged back to Riley and found him stunned speechless.

“The night Spike and I made love,” Buffy informed him slowly and clearly, “was the best of my life. And you know what it made me realize?”

He shook his head dumbly.

“It made me realize that I don’t have to settle for the likes of _you_ anymore,” she hissed. “You’re the one that needs help here, Riley. You get so jealous you shoot me, then threatened to kill the man I love, and you expect me to be grateful that _you_ forgive _me_?! You’re sick…”

And with that she stomped out of the café.

Riley stood there in absolute shock for a few minutes before he realized that everyone was staring at him. “Don’t you people have more important things to do?!” he yelled before stomping out himself.

Buffy needed help, dammit! And he was going to make sure she got it…

* * *

“Ouch,” Willow flinched as Buffy finished her recap of her argument with Riley.

“Oh, he deserved every word of it!” Buffy scowled, still furious with her ex.

Willow nodded. “He sounds very…dense.”

“Dense,” Buffy sighed. “It’s like he was living in his own little fantasy world, Will. Where I was some pure, innocent little virgin who was spoiled by the dark lord, and he was the knight in shinning armor that saved me and took me back anyway. And he thinks _I_ have mental problems? Life isn’t a fairytale, dammit!”

“Yeah, well, Riley’s kind of…clueless,” Willow shrugged. “Not to mention oblivious. Even _Xander_ saw the imminence of your break-up.”

“Ugh!” Buffy let out one last expression of disgust. “Well, at least it’s over now…”

“Yeah,” Willow said with a sly smile, “you’re officially allowed to check out other people now. Definitely of the good…”

“Not for a long, _long_ time,” Buffy insisted. “Especially since there’s already…” She trailed off, her cheeks flushing slightly.

“Someone you’re in love with?” Willow finished for her.

“Yes… No! I mean, not love, ‘cause you know I’m the Slayer and I can’t,” Buffy quickly covered. “But…definitely not wanting to look at non-Spike guys right now…”

“Looking at guys doesn’t necessarily imply looking at non-Spike guys,” Willow pointed out. “You could look at non-non-Spike guys…” Then she shook her head at how contorted that sounded. “I mean, you could look at _Spike_ , Buffy. Maybe he’s not so adverse to the idea as you think…”

“Another vampire?” Buffy let out a deep sigh. “It won’t work, Wills. Angel and I already proved that.”

“No,” Willow said, getting mildly annoyed with her best friend’s pig-headedness, “you and Angel just proved that the two of you wouldn’t work. You can’t apply you situation with Angel to Spike. They’re totally different people!”

“But I’m still the Slayer and he’s still a vampire,” she insisted. “It’s not meant to be…”

“Then why are you in love with him?” Willow retorted.

“Bad luck,” Buffy sulked.

Willow let out a sigh of exasperation. “Will you at least _talk_ to him?” she pleaded. “I mean, I’m sure there’s stuff you two have to work out still… _Non-romantic_ stuff,” she quickly amended off of Buffy’s look.

“Well…” Buffy began hesitantly, “I never did give him the money I promised…or the chair…” A slight smile quirked up on the edges of her lips over this excuse to see Spike again.

“Chair?” Willow asked, confused.

“Long story,” Buffy waved one hand in the air dismissively.

“See?” Willow prodded. “You really should take care of your unfinished business. It _is_ part of your Slayer duty, and all that.”

“Maybe you’re right, Will,” Buffy said, biting her lower lip in that way that Spike loved, “maybe you’re right.”

“And, if nothing else,” Willow said with a small smile, “you’re done with Riley for good.”

Buffy couldn’t help but smile at this.

However, as if to contradict this statement, the phone abruptly rang…

* * *

“Spike!” Anya squealed in surprise when the vampire snuck up behind her Giles’ apartment. “Don’t _do_ that!”

He quirked an eyebrow in her direction and began rummaging through the fridge.

“And what are you doing here?” she demanded. “You’re Spike. You don’t live here anymore. You’re supposed to be not here. You’re supposed to be in your crypt!”

Spike sighed in annoyance and grabbed a bag of chips to accompany the garlic dip he’d stolen from the Watcher’s fridge. “Rupert around?” he demanded, flopping back onto the sofa and grabbing the remote.

Anya frowned. “He’s away doing something that doesn’t involve orgasms,” she explained. “There’s garlic in that,” she added helpfully.

Spike took a defiant bite anyway.

“Back in the 1500s I knew this vamp that could eat garlic raw,” Anya continued to babble on. “It was actually quite impressive. It doesn’t bother some vampires much at all, you know.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Spike said sarcastically, munching on a large bite of garlic and chip.

Anya seemed oblivious to his sarcasm. “Well, as long as it doesn’t kill you, I guess it’s not a problem,” she concluded. “And why are you here? You shouldn’t be here because Xander’s not, so he can’t be here to tell you why you’re stupid…”

“What?!” Spike exclaimed, hearing the catch phrase in her speech.

“…Of course, knowing Xander, he probably wouldn’t be able to say it well, anyway,” Anya rambled on. “He’d do that weird thing that he informs me is manly where he ‘hems’ and ‘haws’ a lot and never gets anything that’s necessary said. How does one manage to be manly and ever have a conversation that way?” she abruptly demanded of Spike.

“Huh?” he was now thoroughly baffled. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that Xander’s trying to inform you that you’re an idiot for not going up to Buffy and asking for more orgasms from her,” she patiently explained, “but he can’t do it because it’s not ‘manly’…and he’s not here,” she conceded, “but that part’s not intentional.”

All Spike managed to catch was the fact that the words ‘Buffy’ and ‘orgasms’ had appeared in the same sentence. His mind had been in a happy place after that point, and he’d entirely missed the former vengeance demon’s point. Again.

“Huh?” he repeated.

“Interesting,” Anya commented. “It seems that being ‘manly’ also consists of not hearing vital information about how to acquire orgasms. I would think that ‘manly’ instincts would automatically seek out any such information…”

“How do I get orgasms now?” Spike’s interest was definitely peaked.

“You go up to Buffy and explain that you still want to copulate with her ever though the spell is over,” Anya explained. “Then you both remove your clothing, and you insert your penis into her—”

“I know that part,” Spike cut her off, miraculously finding himself embarrassed at the complete bluntness of this woman. Maybe Harris wasn’t such a complete pansy after all if he could handle this.

“Well, you obviously need some instruction,” Anya shrugged. “Otherwise you and Buffy would be naked and climaxing right now. I honestly can’t see why you’d both choose not to have sex. It’s making you both mopey and depressed. Unless… Is this some sort of foreplay I don’t know about yet?” she asked curiously.

The chip Spike had been biting into went down the wrong way, and he began coughing in earnest. Anya helped him by hitting him on the back several times.

“Maybe I should try it,” she finally decided. “Perhaps orgasms are more satisfying when one has to wait for them. I _have_ noticed that I tend to climax harder when—”

“’ll come back later when the Watcher’s ‘ere,” Spike cut her off once again. “Nice, er…talkin’ to you.” He practically fled out the door.

“He really is very nice for a vampire,” Anya commented to herself, sitting down in the spot he’d vacated, taking up his bag of chips, and switching channels on the television. “I hope he gets the sexual release he needs soon…”

* * *

Buffy flung the door open wide, causing it to crash against the wall with a hard bang. The abrupt disruption of the silence caused the room’s only occupant to flinch at the loud noise.

“We need to have a nice, long talk,” Buffy declared in a no-nonsense manner, stalking over to him, her fists clenched tightly at her sides as she did so.

He inched backwards almost unconsciously.

“I broke up with one Riley Finn earlier this morning,” she began. “He was clingy, boring, and jealous to the point of abusive – although I fortunately never had to experience the full side-effects of that last one. Our relationship didn’t work. It just didn’t. He wasn’t what I wanted, and I wasn’t the meek little girl he needed.” She began pacing back and forth as she spoke. “So I just happened to run across the perfect guy. We hit it off right off the bat. We fell in love almost instantly. Can you guess who this guy was?”

A numb shake of the head.

“Someone Riley hates very, very much. Someone who’s er… _ethnic_ background Riley looks down upon,” she clarified, stomping back over to the door.

She turned back once more to face the frightened counselor.

“So when ‘a concerned student’ says that I’ve been raped and am self destructive, that just means that he’s jealous and over-possessive. You want to put someone through counseling, I suggest you take a good, long look at Riley Finn,” she finished before slamming the door shut behind her.

The stunned counselor sat there in amazement for a second before taking the obviously self-assured and empowered woman’s advice and adding Riley’s name to the list of students to keep an eye on…


	13. Oh, Get Over Yourselves Already!

Buffy took a deep breath, straightened her blouse carefully, ran a nervous hand through her hair, and took another deep breath. She’d been repeating this pattern non-stop for about fifteen minutes now. And she was quite convinced she could go on for hours. Maybe all day. Well, until the sun set at least… Then she’d be in trouble of the most humiliating sort.

Once again she raised her hand to knock at the door of the crypt…and then she lowered it. _Can’t knock_ , she reminded herself. _I *never* knock. If I knock, then he’ll know something’s up, and that I still have feelings for him, and then he’ll mock me, and the world will end._

 _In conclusion_ , her mind provided, _don’t knock._

She raised her foot to kick the door in. _Can’t kick the door in_ , she reminded herself. _I *always* kicked the door in back when we were enemies. If I kick the door in, then he’ll think that I still hate him, and it’ll be like I’m pretending that the best night of my life never happened, and I’ll be lying to myself and to him._

 _In conclusion, don’t kick the door in._

At about this point, logical reasoning decided to come back from wherever it went on vacation whenever Spike was the topic of thought. _But_ , it provided, _if I can’t knock, and I can’t kick the door in, then I can’t possibly get inside Spike’s crypt… Shit!_ She was stuck in an endless feedback loop, and she knew it.

* * *

 _Slayer’s outside_ , Spike thought. _I can hear her. I should probably open the door…_

 _No!_ The ‘Big Bad’ in him quickly countered. _Can’t be polite. Then she’ll think you’re even more of a useless wanker than she does already…_

 _But, there’s a beautiful, lickable Buffy out there!_ His sex drive pouted. _All hot and bothered and…and…Buffy!_

 _So, let her come to you_ , the other side argued. _She’s the one who pulled away first, and said you were disgusting. Let her grovel._

 _Warm and soft and tight and fiery!_ His jeans were starting to chafe right about now. _And she said she loved me! She said it! A hundred twenty years and she’s the only one who ever—_

 _Stop it!_ Stubborn pride spoke up once more. _Besides, it’s *daylight* out there. She’ll probably take the opportunity presented her and set me on fire._

 _Right, then_ , he gulped unnecessarily, _not gonna open the door…_

He listened to the sounds of pacing outside and occasionally even caught a hint of Slayer musk.

 _Slayer’s outside_ , he repeated to himself. _I should probably open the door…_

* * *

It was one of those things that got so ridiculously out of hand that by the time the door finally opened and Buffy finally entered, neither was really sure of who had made the first move.

They just kind of stood there for a minute, gaping slightly, each trying to fight the urge to tackle the other to the floor and make wild, passionate love. Out of reflex, they both resorted to their favored method of handling these kinds of situations: turn completely and utterly assholic.

“Here’s your stupid chair,” Buffy said, shoving the piece of furniture Oz had left behind into the crypt. “And your stupid duster.” She threw the jacket down onto the floor, but Spike’s hand swept forward in time to catch it and when he looked up at her again, his eyes were flashing yellow. “And your stupid money,” she finished, tossing the crumpled bills onto the floor. “That settles everything,” she added coldly.

“’Less you wanna help me break the new livin’ room set in,” he taunted, giving her the once over and then snorting as if displeased with what he saw.

“You’re a pig, Spike,” she hissed, her eyes narrowing. “God, you’ve got to be the most _annoying_ thing on this planet. I’m just glad I’ll never have to see you again.”

“Thought it turned you on when I was all annoyin’,” he countered viciously, intentionally blowing out a stream of smoke on her from his newly lit cigarette.

“That was a spell,” she snapped back instantly. “There’s nothing you could _ever_ do that would turn me on. You’re revolting.”

“Din’t seem to think so when you were screamin’ out my name,” he retorted. “ ‘Oh, Spike!’,” he mock-imitated her voice. “ ‘Yes, Spike! You’re so good, Spike! You’re the best I’ve ever had, Spike! Oh, please let me drink you down, Spike!’”

His little tirade stopped abruptly when Buffy’s fist hit him squarely in the jaw.

“You’re… _worthless_ ,” she finally hissed. “You’re nothing but a useless, neutered vampire. I could dust you right now, and no one would care. No one would ever care, Spike, because no one’s _ever_ going to love you,” she bit right back, using his own worst fears against him.

For a second, his eyes seemed to water, and she felt a sharp stab in her gut at the thought that he was hurting, but just as quickly as the emotion had appeared, it vanished again.

“So speaks the only slut in th’ world that’s not worth a second go,” he said icily. Hell, two could play the ‘pick at insecurities’ game.

Buffy bit back the sting of his words, and for a second his eyes softened when he realized in horror what he’d just said. By the time she turned back to look at him, though, they both had their indifferent masks on again.

“You’re nothing,” she spat. “And, really, you’re one to talk. After all, all you’re good for is as a cheap Angel replacement.”

This time her jaw snapped shut with the force of his punch. Unfortunately, the effect was entirely ruined by the fact that he fell to the ground screaming in pain and clutching his head.

“See?” Buffy said before stepping out into the light. “You’re _pathetic_.” And with that, she slammed the door shut behind her.

* * *

 _Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god…_

Buffy’s mind went into overdrive the instant she’d left Spike behind, and she tore through the cemetery, crying as she went.

 _He loves me, he loves me, he loves me, he *said* he loved me! How could he say those things… No! He loves me! He has to love me…because I love him so much. Oh god, Spike, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you…_

* * *

“Buffy,” Spike whimpered softly when he finally overcame the pain in his skull. “Buffy, please come back,” he whispered. “I love you. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean it, luv. I didn’t mean it…”

* * *

Needless to say, Riley couldn’t have possibly picked a worse time to continue his plan of winning Buffy back to the Side of Light. He dropped to his knees before her when he saw her approach and prepared to give the speech he’d composed about how he could once again make her the wonderful, pure woman she’d been before Jonathan’s unfortunate spell had allowed that _monster_ to sully her untainted virtue.

He got a black eye for his troubles before he’d even managed to say a word. By the time he’d recovered, she was long gone. He sighed and shook his head in regret, determined to save his ladylove from a fate worse than death no matter what the cost…

* * *

“I hate him!” Buffy hit the punching bag one last time for good measure. “I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!”

“Uhh…” Xander began confused. “Who exactly are we talking about here?”

“Riley,” she informed him. “And Spike. But most _especially_ Riley.”

“Hold on,” Xander held his hands up defensively when the brassed-off Slayer suddenly turned to look in his direction. “Let’s just take these one at a time. First off: you hate Spike? Since when?”

“Since I fell in love with him,” she huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest defiantly. She was going to be illogical, dammit, and everyone else better _like it_ or else…

“Okaaay,” Xander wisely realized that this wasn’t a good time to call her on how little that made sense. “But, seriously. This morning you were all with the excitement to see Spike, and now you’re…uh…” She gave him a Look. “So, what happened?” he hastily amended.

“We met. We fought. I hate him,” she insisted.

“Yeah…see, that’s where I’m confused…”

“Why?” she said disinterestedly. “That’s what always happens when we meet.”

“Yeah, except this time it was supposed to be ‘you met; you kissed; you love him’,” he pointed out.

Buffy bit her lower lip and hit the punching bag a few more times. “Yeah, well…” she began sheepishly.

“Buffy?” he asked accusingly.

“I…er, kinda just started yelling at him, and then he started yelling, and there was this whole big yelling mess,” she flinched slightly at the memory. “I froze,” she confessed. “Oh god…I completely blew it! The things I said to him… If he didn’t hate me before, he sure does now. Hooray, Buffy. Way to ruin _another_ relationship…”

“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you,” Xander reassured her, patting her shoulder comfortingly. “He’s probably just… _really_ pissed off…”

“Yeah, well, _I’m_ pissed off, too,” Buffy insisted stubbornly. “Just because I started it doesn’t mean he had to continue it.”

“Yeah, I mean, any normal guy would have just gone and confessed his – literally – undying love for you after you screamed about how much you hated him,” Xander retorted sarcastically.

Buffy groaned and let her head fall in her hands. “I’m doomed,” she sighed. “Every time I see him I just…” she trailed off abruptly when she noticed that Xander was listening just a bit _too_ closely, a slightly glazed look in his eyes. “…Want to do things that I only discuss with my _girl_ friends,” she finished with a triumphant smile when she saw Xander’s expression fall.

“Er…uh, yeah,” he said, blushing terribly and nervously scratching his head. “So…do you think you could elaborate on those things?” he abruptly let out in a nervous rush before slapping himself in the face. He so had not meant to say that… “So I can…uh, advise you on whether or not to act on these urges,” he hastily amended. _Ooh, good save!_ He patted himself on the back.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Anya-esque things,” she clarified.

“OK,” Xander nodded, “a word of advice then: the words ‘copulate’ and ‘interlock’ just don’t help the mood any.”

Buffy giggled before she could remember that she was supposed to be mad and sulking.

“Ha, see?” Xander said. “Things not entirely hopeless in Spike-ville yet.” He paused for a second. “ ‘Fornicate’, too,” he added. “Just sucks the romance right out of the room…”

She punched him playfully in shoulder, and he felt obliged to say ‘ouch’ even though she’d barely even brushed the fabric of his shirt. Even the _thought_ of being mock-punched by the Slayer hurt.

“So, you really think we’re not totally doomed yet?” She bit her lip nervously.

He shrugged. “As long as you don’t go making with the ‘Oh, how I hate Spike; let me count the ways’ every time you see him…”

“Point taken,” Buffy agreed.

“Moving along then,” he said, proud of himself for actually cheering his friend up, “what’s Riley done _now_? I thought you’d gotten rid of him forever.”

She groaned. “So did I. But he’s not going away nicely. He just doesn’t get that it’s _over_.”

“And have you tried a restraining order?” Xander joked.

Buffy laughed. And then sobered up a bit. “Actually,” she said thoughtfully, “that’s not such a bad idea…”

“And Xandman is two for two,” Xander cheered. “Quick: ask me how to bring peace to the Middle East.”

She looked at him askance.

“Hurry,” he insisted. “I’m on a roll.”

* * *

“You _do_ know what you’re doin’, right Red?” Spike asked nervously as he watched various bundles of herbs materialize from the bag Tara was holding.

Willow nodded reassuringly before frowning at the jar she held in her hand. “At least, I _think_ so…” she added.

Spike twitched on top of the stone sarcophagus. Maybe volunteering for the Wiccas’ little experiments hadn’t been such a good idea after all…even if it _did_ provide him with the money for smokes and blood…

“You’ve got the cash, right?” he demanded.

“Y-Yes,” Tara flashed him a shy smile.

There was silence for a while. Spike shifted uncomfortably and listened to the Wiccas’ whispered argument about whether to use wolfsbane or ivy. They obviously weren’t aware of the fact that he could hear every single word they said, and it made him even more nervous than before.

“OK!” Willow finally announced when they’d mixed together several herbs to their satisfaction and successfully ground them up. “We’re ready.”

“Right, then. So what do I ‘ave ta do?” he demanded.

“Y-You should sit at the center of the circle,” Tara informed him, gaining more confidence in her speech as the topic turned to something she was comfortable with.

He quirked an eyebrow at her before slipping of his duster and carefully making his way to the center of the chalk outline that know decorated the earthen floor of his crypt. Hell like he was going to risk his precious leather to these two’s dabbling…

“OK, this is what’s going to happen,” Willow informed him as he sat facing her. “We’re going to complete the circle, and then we’re going to a bit of summoning. Hopefully, that’ll infuse the herbs with Second Sight. Then, they _should_ react to you in some way ‘cause you’re a demon and all…”

“ ‘In some way’,” Spike repeated anxiously.

“We think they’ll just glow a bit and hover around you,” Tara added helpfully.

“They’re not gonna turn my nose pink again?” he demanded of Willow.

“There should be no color changes this time,” she assured him. “We altered that part.”

He raised an eyebrow in inquiry when she didn’t finish the list of promises.

She sighed. “And there will be no explosions, loud noises, terrible lingering stenches, or sudden bursts into flames,” she quickly covered all their past errors.

“There’s jus’ no way ‘m gettin’ paid enough for this,” he grumbled under his breath before agreeing that she could continue.

They did that dull and repetitive Witch chanting and meditation stuff that had almost defeated him whenever he’d dabbled in magic. Even just watching it made him bored out of his mind, and by the time all the standard incantations were over, his foot was shaking back and forth in spasms with pent up energy.

Willow crossed her fingers as Tara took a pinch of the powder, raised it over Spike’s head, and then released it. It sort of floated around in the circle for a little while before falling unceremoniously onto the floor.

Spike let out a sigh of relief. At least things hadn’t gone spectacularly wrong this time.

Willow frowned, and she and Tara quickly dispersed the magic, allowing Spike to run over to his jacket for a badly needed cigarette. He watched disinterestedly as they argued over what ingredients had caused the spell to fizzle out _this_ time.

“Don’ see why you bother anyway,” he finally commented, taking a deep drag of smoke into his lungs and holding it there for a few seconds before he exhaled. “I mean, ‘s not like unknown demons ‘re gonna just sit there while you do all the incantations an’ whatnot.”

“O-Once we get the spell right, we’ll be able to adapt it for faster identifications,” Tara clarified.

Spike snorted back a laugh and took another puff of his smoke.

“It would be very useful to Buffy,” Willow insisted, annoyed at his dismissive attitude.

“Yeah, ‘cause she ‘as such problems findin’ demons as is,” he retorted, snuffing out the cigarette on his boot.

Willow bit her lower lip and scowled a bit as she put away the rest of her equipment. “Don’t see why you’re in such a grumpy mood,” she muttered under her breath. “After all, it’s not like Buffy thinks _you’re_ useless…”

Spike’s head snapped up instantly, the words sounding frighteningly familiar. “What?” he demanded, icy blue eyes holding her firmly in place.

Willow squirmed a bit but finally spoke. “It’s just that Buffy’s been needing me less and less lately. For the Slaying, at least. First, she had Riley, and now there’s you, so I guess I just go back to being plain, ordinary Willow again…”

“ _Me_?!” he asked in disbelief. “Why on earth d’you think ‘d help that _bitch_?!”

Willow looked up at him in surprise, then looked at the duster he was wearing and the chair Buffy’d acquired for him. “I-I just thought…” she began nervously. “Buffy _did_ come to talk to you today, didn’t she?” she finally demanded, concerned.

He snorted. “Yeah, t’yell at me an’ tell me just how _useless_ I was,” he retorted, lighting another cigarette. There was no way he had enough. He needed to get hold of some hard liquor and fast. Which meant he needed money, and… Hey! “You gonna pay me or not?” he demanded, holding out his hand and rubbing his fingers together.

“Oh, right!” Tara exclaimed, suddenly remembering. She dug another in her bag and found the bills she’d promised him.

He studied them intently for a second as if they would give him counterfeit money before counting it and sliding it into his duster pocket.

“Buffy said that?” Willow said in surprise, still stuck on what he’d said a few sentences back.

“Says shit like that all the time, your dear li’l Slayer friend does,” he replied bitterly.

“Oh.” Willow’s eyes widened. “Oh!” she repeated a bit more alarmed. “We, er…uh, have to go now. Bye, Spike!” she said quickly before grabbing Tara’s hand and practically fleeing from the crypt.

“Witches.” Spike rolled his eyes before laying back down to sleep and hopefully not dream of the One Night That Changed Everything…

* * *

Buffy smiled smugly when she opened the manila envelope that had been left on her bed with ‘Top Secret: For Elizabeth Summers’ Eyes Only’ stamped on the front. She read over the first few lines just to make sure everything was in order:

> Re: Psychological Evaluation: Agent Riley Finn  
> File #4091.A7/G19  
> Classification: RO68 PSYC 2130
> 
> As to the proceedings aforementioned and the recent list of infractions and aberrant behavior, it is this ruling of this committee that one Agent Riley Finn, serial number X1843690, sub-division SCR12/R84 sub-section Y78091, be put under observation for full psychological profile and analysis at the ***** Facility in ******, number ******, sub-division *******, registry number ******, beginning as of 12:00 03-16-00, twelve hundred hours of the 16th of March, year 2000 until such as time as he is deemed fit to return to duty, no sooner than 12:00 03-16-01, twelve hundred hours of the 16th or March, year 2001.
> 
> Verified  
> *********

“Nice to know that Riley’s officially sane at noon a year from now as opposed to at, say, ten o’clock in the morning,” Buffy rolled her eyes. “And heaven forbid I should see all those boring, worthless numbers that are blacked out!” she added sarcastically. “This is a matter of national security, people!” She chucked the paper and the envelope in the trash basket. “Losers.”

She brushed her hands off satisfactorily, knowing that one Agent Riley Finn wouldn’t be back for a good, long time…


	14. Several Strategic Slaps Upside the Head

The door opened with a creak, and the silhouette of a hooded figure stepped into the darkened room, his form outlined by the dim, orange glow of the streetlights outside. He surveyed the occupants in the room carefully, before closing the door behind him and enfolding them all in pitch-blackness.

However, in response to the newfound darkness, another shadowy figure lit the candle before her, the flickering of its flame casting eerie shadows across her face.

“You’re late,” another of the women present addressed the hooded man still in the doorway.

He pushed the hood off of his head then, revealing his features for the first time.

“Sorry, Ahn,” Xander said sheepishly, cuddling into his hooded sweatshirt. “I got held up at work. Why does everyone insist on ordering their pizzas fifteen minutes before we close? And on the coldest day of the year, too…” He shivered slightly and approached the three women. “And what’s with the dark, secret meeting anyway, Will?” he asked the candle’s holder.

“This is clandestine, conspiracy stuff,” the redheaded Witch huffed. “We need the darkness and the candles,” she insisted, crossing her arms in front of her.

“It’s very effective,” Tara reassured her, patting her arm comfortingly.

“Well, I can’t see a thing,” Anya complained. “I can’t even tell if this cookie is chocolate or oatmeal raisin in this light…”

“There are cookies?” Xander demanded with sudden excitement. “Quick, turn of the lights!”

“Oh, fine,” Willow finally conceded, flipping on the switch behind her and illuminating Xander’s way to chocolatey goodness.

“You’re the best cook ever!” Xander informed her enthusiastically through a mouthful of chocolate crumbs.

“Personally, I prefer the oatmeal raisin,” Anya commented, “but that in no way detracts from your all-around baking skills.”

“Yeah,” Xander commented, “so what’d you do this time to bring the guilt on?”

“What? I can’t just bake cookies for my friends now?” Willow demanded.

Everyone else in the room gave her a look, and she blushed.

“OK, so our little matchmaking effort went awry, and now Buffy and Spike are both miserable,” she finally confessed.

“So, why are we getting the cookies?” Xander inquired. “Not that I’m complaining or anything…”

“Because we’re the ones that are going to make it better,” Tara said. “Right?”

Willow nodded. “It’s time to go to Plan B,” she said decisively.

“There was a Plan A?” Xander said in surprise.

“Plan A was subtly implying that they should go see each other and have orgasms,” Anya responded helpfully.

Everyone else’s face suddenly turned a deep maroon color.

“So, er…uh,” Xander finally broke the awkward silence, “what’s Plan B then? Hit them over the head, strip them naked, and tie ‘em up together?”

Willow considered this for a second. “I don’t think we’re quite that desperate yet,” she finally responded, “but that can be Plan C.”

“So?” Anya said, growing boring now that the novelty of Willow’s homemade cookies had worn off. “What’s Plan B then?”

Willow proudly pulled out a sheet of 4x5 poster-board upon which was illustrated a complicated battle plan. “Operation Smoochies: Plan B” was written across the top in bold red letters. Willow gestured for them to all move in around the plan in a huddle.

“This time,” she said in a secretive whisper, “we go out for the full two-pronged attack…”

* * *

Buffy started in alarm when desperate pounding began on her door. She flashed a quick look at Willow, who was lying on her book thumbing through a history textbook, before hurrying to unlock the door.

Anya practically collapsed into the room when the door was finally opened, and Buffy managed to awkwardly catch her before she fell onto the floor. Tears were streaming down the ex-vengeance demon’s cheeks as she clung onto Buffy.

“They got Xander!” she managed to exclaim before breaking down in the middle of the room.

Together, Buffy and Willow half dragged, half carried her over onto Willow’s bed.

“What happened, Anya?” Buffy demanded, concerned. “What happened to Xander?”

“A-A gang of Krellik Demons,” Anya said between sobs. “They just…grabbed him. I couldn’t do anything to stop him…”

“Was he all right?” Buffy demanded, worried.

Anya shrugged helplessly. “They knocked him out,” she explained. “I don’t know.”

“We have to find them!” Willow exclaimed in horror.

Buffy nodded. “Do you have any idea where they might have taken him?” she demanded of Anya.

The former demon nodded. “Rumor has it their lair’s in the basement under the music building. I-In the storage room next to the boiler room…”

“Buffy, you have to go now,” Willow insisted, “before it’s too late.”

“You?” Buffy demanded, grabbing a hefty sword from her closet.

“I’ll call the rest of the Scoobies together in case you need back-up,” Willow explained, “and then I’ll stay here with Anya.”

“Right,” Buffy agreed.

“Hurry, Buffy. _Please_?” Anya pleaded.

“Xander’ll be fine,” Buffy assured her before rushing out the door.

Willow and Anya looked at the closed door for a second before turning to each other. For a second, the looks of terror and grief remained on their faces. And then they began giggling.

“You were _perfect_!” Willow exclaimed in delight. “How did you do that fake crying thing?”

Anya proudly held up a little bottle. “Fake tears,” she explained. “And people think I’m incapable of deception…”

“That was great,” Willow repeated. “I totally bought it.”

“And so did Buffy,” Anya agreed. “You did a good job, too.”

“Thanks,” Willow said with a small smile before picking up the phone and dialing. “Hey, Xander,” she said after he’d picked up the other end of the line, “Phase One is a success…”

* * *

“Th-This is really nice of you,” Tara said nervously, shifting from one foot to another.

“Yeah, yeah,” Spike grumbled under his breath as he fiddled with the lock on the music building, “jus’ better have my money…”

Tara nodded vigorously. “I just need a few scales,” she reminded him, “but i-if you want to kill it… It _is_ pretty dangerous…”

“Still don’ see why you can’t get the Slayer to do this for you,” he complained just as the lock clicked open in response to the latest twist of the pick.

“W-Willow wants this spell to be a surprise for Buffy,” Tara explained.

“Right,” Spike said disinterestedly. “So, basement, next to th’ boiler room?”

Tara nodded. “Good luck!” she called out after him as he disappeared into the building. She listened for a minute to make sure that he’d gone and then whispered: “The coast is clear!”

Xander appeared from around the corner of a neighboring dorm a few seconds later and quickly made his way over to her. “Willow called to say that Buffy’s on her way,” he told her, handing off the cell-phone.

Tara nodded. “Let’s go,” she agreed before they entered the building as well.

They followed Spike at what they hoped was a safe distance and breathed a sigh of relief when he finally slipped into the storage room. With a quick run, Xander slammed the heavy metal door shut behind the vampire and bolted it shut. Almost instantly muffled noises and bangs emanated from the room.

“Stage Two complete,” Xander said with a wicked grin. “So,” he addressed Tara conversationally, “ready to tie me up?”

Tara blushed and giggled before taking the rope Xander had brought with him and doing exactly as he asked…

* * *

Buffy smiled at her good fortune when she realized the back door to the music building had been left slightly ajar. She really did feel guilty about destroying school property…even if it _was_ a matter of life and death.

As silently as she could, she crept down to the basement. A slight tingling at the back of her neck told her that something pretty powerful of the demonic persuasion was around, but it wasn’t close enough to worry about yet.

The door to the basement stairs was open as well. Buffy bit her lip for a second. This was almost _too_ easy; it had all the makings of a trap. But still her Slayer sense said that everything was OK, so she took a deep breath and slowly descended the flight of stairs into the bowls of the building.

She flinched and stopped only once when the third step from the top creaked, but nothing came out to attack her, so she proceeded with utmost caution…

And then she saw Xander, and caution went to the wind.

She was at his side in a second, undoing the ropes that held him fast.

“ _Good timing, Buff_ ,” he breathed a sigh of relief when the gag was removed from his mouth.

“ _Where are they?_ ” she whispered back, looking around furtively.

“ _In the storage room_ ,” he responded. “ _Follow me…_ ”

Buffy could hear muffled words and some slight banging from inside the room and took a deep breath, preparing herself for battle. She nodded to Xander, who opened the bolt of the door – a detail which unfortunately escaped her at the time.

She barged right into the room just as someone else was barging out. Fortunately, her Slayer strength gave her the advantage and she tackled Xander’s kidnapper back to the ground inside easily. She quickly raised her fight to pummel her opponent when she got a good look at the struggling form beneath her…

“Spike?!” she exclaimed in disbelief, her fist still poised in mid-strike.

“Slayer?!” Spike exclaimed with equal confusion, ceasing his struggles for an instant.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” they managed to demand in unison.

And then there was a slam of metal and the distinctive click of the bolt being fastened behind them. They spun to look at the door simultaneously and discovered that they were indeed locked in…

* * *

Xander and Tara listened to absolute dumbfounded silence in the room for a second, and then the pounding began anew twice as loud as before.

Tara couldn’t help but giggle as they headed upstairs. It really was quite an impressive racket.

Outside, they were greeted by an equally amused Willow and Anya, who got the thumbs up from Xander before bursting into hysterics on their own.

“That’ll teach ‘em not to have sex,” Anya commented before the four friends returned home, basking in the success of their mission…

* * *

“’S’all your fault, Slayer,” Spike accused, finally giving up on the door and settling himself down on the edge of the sofa that rested against the back wall. Apparently, some of the leftover furniture from the dorms was stored here. He was conspicuously not looking at the mattress over against the corner…

“ _My_ fault?!” Buffy exclaimed in disbelief. “What’re you doing down here anyway? You weren’t in on the Xander kidnapping, were you?” She raised her sword menacingly.

Spike rolled his eyes and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. “Kidnappin’?” he snorted. “Who the hell d’you think locked us in here, Summers?”

Buffy sighed and brushed her hair back out of her face. “Damn,” she swore, “we’ve been set up, haven’t we?”

He nodded. “An’ well, too.”

“I am _so_ going to kill them when we get out off here,” she declared, stomping her foot on the floor.

“Oh, real good idea,” Spike snorted. “Throw a li’l temper tantrum. ‘m sure _that’ll_ get us out ‘f here…”

“I don’t see _you_ coming up with any brilliant plans,” she retorted.

He shrugged. “Who says ‘m tryin’ to get out?” he said snidely. “’Cause I know sooner or later you’re gonna give in an’ show me a _good_ time…”

“You’re disgusting,” she responded, her face contorting with that emotion. “If anything, _I’m_ the one who has to worry—”

He laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself, pet,” he said derisively. “’S not like you’re irresistible or anythin’. Barely even temptin’.” He plucked on cigarette from the pack.

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “You’re not smoking in here,” she informed him.

“No?” he asked with a sly smirk, placing the fag between his lips and flicking on his lighter.

“There’s no way for me to escape the second-hand smoke,” Buffy said firmly.

“And I care…why?” he retorted, moving to light the cigarette.

In the blink of an eye, Buffy has crossed the distance between them and yanked the cigarette from right between his lips. “Because I can kick your ass,” she retorted, her eyes narrowed.

Spike scowled in return and leaned in close. “You won’t do it, Slayer,” he taunted her.

“Wanna bet?” Her hands were now fisted in his tee shirt.

He snorted derisively. “’f not for this bleedin’ chip, you wouldn’t stand a chance, luv,” he retorted.

“Oh, yeah?” she seethed. “Who kick who’s ass on Parent Teacher Night again? And on Halloween? And during Drusilla’s restoration ceremony? And during the whole Gem of Amara thing?”

“Can’t beat me now, though, pet,” he practically purred, his voice all husky seduction.

“And why’s that?” she demanded, a bit nervously.

“’Cause you want me,” he replied with a confident smirk.

His head turned to the side with the force of her slap. Yes, that’s right: slap. Not punch. The smirk returned to his face tenfold at this knowledge.

“Y-You complete and utter _pig_!” Buffy exclaimed indignantly.

“Y’know, Slayer, the whole ‘pig’ bit’s gettin’ a bit old,” he said sarcastically. “Whatsa matter? Havin’ difficulty comin’ up with new smartass remarks as of late? Slippin’ a bit?”

“In your dreams, Spikey,” she hissed, gripping him tighter and pulling him up just a little bit closer…

He rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah,” he said, a slight growl in his tone, “y’know ‘s only a matter’a time before I get my fangs good an’ deep in your throat…”

Buffy gulped slightly at the incredibly erotic images in her head. She yanked him another inch closer. “Are we forgetting about the chip?” she teased. “Pool little Spike can’t even take a taste now that he’s chipped. Defanged. Fixed. _Neutered_.” She stretched her neck a bit for emphasis at this point, giving him a good, long look at what he’d never be able to have.

He licked his lips slightly in response before the cockiness took over once more. “Your loss, Slayer,” he retorted. “Too bad you’ll never get to feel a _real_ vamp’s fangs in your throat.” He glanced at the mark there. “After all, Peaches always did come up a bit… _short_ …”

“Don’t know about that,” she countered, looking him right in the eyes and smiling wickedly. “He felt _sooo_ good inside me,” she taunted. “So strong and deep and—”

She squealed and was cut off abruptly when Spike grabbed hold of her shoulders roughly and shook her. “Why, Spikey,” she began coyly, “we’re not _jealous_ , are we?”

He growled, and his eyes flashed yellow for a second. “Nothin’ t’be jealous of,” he finally responded. “After all, _he’s_ not the one tha’s gonna end your miserable existence.” He yanked her closer, right in his face, her body in danger of falling into his lap…

Buffy scowled at him. “I _hate_ you,” she said venomously. “And, really, there’s no reason I shouldn’t stake you right now. Save myself some aggravation in the future…” She plucked the stake from her waistband and held it right over his heart, threateningly.

He merely smiled in response. “Yeah, right. You’ll never go through with it, so jus’ give up the act, Brittany.”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “Wh-What did you call me?” she asked nervously.

Spike swore internally when he realized he’d reverted to his ‘Jonathan’s spell’ pattern of annoying her. “Brittany,” he finally responded. “After all, you’re jus’ as irritatin’ an’ whiny as—”

“You annoying, arrogant—” she began.

And then simultaneously, they closed the distance between them, their lips coming together with bruising intensity.

Spike’s hand came up to catch her wrist gently, and he massaged little circles into the pulse point there until she relaxed and let the stake clatter to the ground.

Her hand now free, she took the opportunity presented her to wrap both her arms around his neck, pressing his mouth to hers urgently.

His hands pulled her hips into him with bruising force, and she fell into his lap, her thighs straddling her waist.

At the point of their union, their tongues fought and danced, each savoring the taste they’d been dreaming of ever since that stupid spell had been broken a week ago.

Their hips ground together with need, Buffy finding the hardness she sought and Spike discovering her delightful warm wetness.

“Oh god,” Buffy moaned, breaking away from their kiss to gasp for breath. “Want you…”

“Want you, too,” Spike moaned in response before tackling her back onto the couch…

* * *

“Has anyone seen Buffy tonight?” Giles commented off-handedly to the Scoobies gathered in his living room. “I thought she was going to stop by here before her patrol…”

The four conspirators exchanged nervous, guilty glances.

Anya opened her mouth to speak, but Xander quickly slapped his hand over it.

“Sh-She probably just changed her plans,” Willow suggested nervously before all four of them turned studiously back to their task of not looking Giles in the eye…


	15. When In Rome…

“Oh god, I missed you…” Buffy murmured, her lips tracing the sharp line of Spike’s jaw with soft kisses.

His hand slipped up under the hem of her shirt, and he began to draw lazy circles across her tanned stomach muscles. “Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you,” he confessed.

“You were everywhere.” Buffy’s lips found his ear, and she began to nibble lightly at the lobe. “I kept seeing you: just around the corner, on the other side of the street, at the far end of the crowd…”

His hands were now actively pulling her blouse up and off, and he rose away from her delightful touch to do so. “In all my dreams,” he agreed. “Every time I closed my eyes, I could see you…see _us_ …”

She arched her back a bit, allowing him to yank the offending blouse off over her head. Now, for that irritating black tee he was wearing… How dare it cover up his immensely lickable chest?! She pulled it from his jeans roughly and half-clawed, half-tore the garment up and over his shoulders. “I wanted you every second,” she said, wide-eyed at the magnificent physique before her once more. “I never stopped wanting you, even for a moment…”

He dove down to meet her lips with bruising intensity, muffling her moan of his name with his tongue. He pulled back just as quickly and looked deep into her emerald eyes. “The thought that I could never be with you again, luv,” he said softly. “’t was almost more’n I could bear. Like the unlife wasn’t worth livin’ anymore, y’know?”

“I know,” she said with a small smile. “I’m so sorry, baby,” she finally whispered. “All those bitchy things I said…” Her hands were on his zipper now, shakily pulling it down. “…I didn’t mean any of it. And I’m so, sooo sorry…”

He let out a heady little gasp and closed his eyes tight when she opened the top button of his jeans, and his length sprung out into her warm and waiting hands. “’m sorry, too, kitten,” he mumbled against her throat. “Was so stupid… Never wanted to ‘urt you…”

“Me, either,” she hissed slightly when his hands moved to return the favor, sliding down beneath both her sweat pants and her panties, removing them both in one graceful motion. She cupped his cheek with her free hand and looked right into his eyes. “You’re beautiful,” she informed him. “You know that, right?” He turned his head away bashfully, and she frowned. “Don’t you ever believe that you’re disgusting,” she insisted. “You’re so beautiful…in every way…”

He ventured to look down at her again and felt himself drowning in those eyes, now wet with tears at how she’d hurt him. “’ve never met anyone that does to me what you do,” he admitted in return. “You’re,” he actually managed to blush slightly, “the best ‘ve ever had, Buffy. They were all crazy to leave you. Crazy an’ stupid.”

Her lips met his in another passionate kiss, and she tried to work his jeans down lower on his hips. He complied with her unspoken request and shimmied out of them, kicking them to the side. “The ones who… _gasp_ …left you… _gasp_ …were the crazy ones – literally.” This got a small smile from him. “You’re the kind of man most women only dream about. It’s…”

She froze abruptly, terrified of what she’d almost said. Because this time it was real; there was no taking it back. And, for some reason, this was more frightening for the Buffy who had the fate of the world resting upon her shoulders. Suddenly, she missed that old Buffy – the one who just let herself _feel_ …

“It’s…” she began again shakily. “It’s so easy to love you, Spike,” she finally said.

He just lay there above her for a second, poised, ready, stunned, uncertain, wary…

“I love you,” she whispered softly, a tear escaping her eye at the intensity of her emotions at that moment. “Heaven help me, Spike, but I still love you…”

He kissed the tear away as it fell down her cheek. “Love you too, pet. Never stopped for a second…”

Their lips met once more, and Buffy could have sworn that Spike’s cheeks were wet as well…and not just from her tears. Dammit! She was no good at this teary, emotional stuff!

Apparently, neither was Spike because they both simultaneously changed the nature of their kiss, making it all about happiness and desire and love again and not about sorrow and loss.

Spike’s deft fingers found the back clasp to her bra, and with one skillful twist, she was finally fully bared to his gaze. “Love you,” he whispered, bending over to take one rose-tipped peak into his mouth.

“Love you,” Buffy echoed, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close, her nails tracing lightly over his spine, sending shivers all up and down his body.

“Love you,” he repeated, his mouth moving to lavish its attention on her other breast.

“Love you.” Her fingers twining through his hair, gently massaging the knots in his neck and stroking the peroxide curls lovingly…

“Love you.” His lips back on her throat now, his thumbs each taking one nipple and pebbling them back and forth in syncopation, playing her body like a fine, golden harp…

“Love you.” Her thighs spreading wide, allowing him to slip in between, cradling his hips with her own…

“Love you.” His hands cupping her butt cheeks before trailing down to her knees, lifting them up and bringing her into proper alignment…

“Love you.” Her hiss of anticipation as his velvety tip came into contact with her wet outer folds…

“Love you.” His hard cock pressing just slightly into her, savoring the first licks of heat that stoked up and down his trembling need…

And then their eyes locked, and the need for speaking the words aloud vanished. Their hands met, their fingers intertwining. Buffy’s ankles locked at the small of his back. And never once did they escape the opposing gaze, both sets of pupils dilated so completely that they provided windows into the other’s soul…albeit, only metaphorically in one case…

And they each took a deep breath, and Spike plunged deep within her.

They both cried out in ecstasy at this most intimate of unions rediscovered. However, their mutual need was too great, and they began moving together, feverishly, violently…

Spike’s blunt teeth bit into her shoulder, muffling his cry at the feel of her nails scraping up and down his back, leaving red furrows in their wake. He grabbed hold of her ankles in response and pushed them up and back, forcing her knees up closer to her shoulders and allowing him to plow into her harder and faster than ever before.

Buffy screamed in ecstasy as he pounded into her with superhuman intensity. Her head flew back, and her hands cupped his ass, sharp nails leaving five crescent marks deep in each cheek. She managed to slip her ankles over his shoulders, pulling him into her with newfound urgency.

His hands managed to be everywhere at once, finding every sensitized nerve in her body. They roughly caught her ass before moving up her back, discovering her breasts, the flat of her stomach, the line of her collarbone, the pounding pulse points in her wrists, the curve of her throat…

Buffy returned the favor, exploring cool alabaster skin warmed up by her own inner fires and wet with her borrowed sweat. She managed to cover every inch of his beautiful body all within the space of the few minutes before their bruising, frantic rhythm became too much to handle.

Spike squeezed his eyes shut when her inner muscles first began to clench around him, pulling him further into her body than he had believed possible and pummeling him with exquisite pleasure. He ground hard and deep within her, his wiry curls catching her clit on the in-stroke and his hardened tip hammering into that secret spot deep inside…

“AaaaaiiiiSpppiiiikeeeee!” Buffy screamed at the top of her lungs as infinite pleasure crashed through her, causing her vision to black out from its intensity and shattering everything in the world around except for the feel of their joining together, the feel of him becoming her, conquering her from inside and out…

She was now squeezing him so hard that he was sure he would be crushed. But, oh, what a way to go! Despite the rapid staccato of her muscles pulsing around him, he managed to pump into her one, two, three more times before he exploded deep within her as well. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, hissing and whispering as his seed shot out into her in erratic, electrifying bursts.

And then the pleasure became too much for him to bear anymore, and he followed her over the edge, his arms shaking and giving out, causing him to collapse upon her soft, warm body.

For a while, the pair was absolutely still, the only motion caused by the regular heaves of Buffy’s chest as she fought to return the air to her lungs. And then, lazily, one eye slowly opened. It was a dark eye, the pupil still greatly dilated with lust, but the rim of hazel around it began to show ever brighter.

Buffy moaned slightly and opened her other eye as well, blinking a bit at the realization that she had passed out from the intensity of her orgasm. She giggled slightly when she realized that Spike had as well and was now sleeping while still inside her. She lifted one shaky hand to lightly stroke the soft platinum curls that had become tousled during sex and cautiously lowered her legs until they were back around his waist and much for comfortable for enjoying the glowing aftermath.

Her movement caused the angle of his still semi-hard cock to shift within her, and he groaned into her throat lightly in response.

“My pretty vampire,” Buffy cooed in his ear, giggling slightly at attaching this epithet to the former Big Bad.

He did that little whimper-nuzzle-purr thing that made her want to stay in his arms for all eternity before he raised his head sleepily to look at her. “’Mornin’, luv,” he said with a tired smile.

“It’s evening,” she couldn’t help but seek revenge after he’d used that line on her several times. “That, and you were only asleep for all of five minutes.”

“Wasn’t asleep,” he said, still in that dreamy state. “Was dead. You must’ve killed me, kitten, ‘cause I was in heaven…”

“Or maybe we just brought heaven down to earth for a minute,” she replied, smiling as well at the oddly poetic note of their conversation. She’d never really seen this side of him before, but being with him like this was so very intimate…

“Love you,” he whispered one last time before burying his face in her throat and hair, kissing every spot he could find that would make her shiver.

“Love you more,” she teased, the soft pads of her fingers soothing the already-healing red marks that her nails had left on his back.

He growled slightly and playfully nipped at the bite mark on her throat – the one he’d taken from Angel to be _his_ pleasure spot while they had been under the spell together.

Buffy let out a heady little gasp in response.

“Love _you_ more,” Spike insisted, smirking at her response.

She scowled at him. “Persistent bastard,” she sulked.

“That’s why you love me,” he teased.

“Mmm…” Buffy agreed, running one index finger down the center of his chest seductively. “Either that or the great sex,” she joked.

He mock growled at her and lunged for her throat. She let out a little delighted squeal and mock-struggled beneath him.

Unfortunately, they’d both forgot that a narrow couch was no place to engage in their more _exuberant_ forms of recreation and they accidentally rolled of the edge, both yelping slightly as they did so.

It turned out that Buffy landed on the top, and the force of their fall caused Spike’s growing erection to plunge deep within her.

“Oh god!” Buffy gasped, rising up over him and bracing her hands against his chest as she rode him slowly.

“Slayer,” Spike hissed, the force of their collision at impact sending equal jolts of pain and pleasure throughout his length.

“ _Vampire_ ,” Buffy retorted with a sly little smirk. “If you insist of calling me by my title, I’m going to call you by yours right back,” she explained off of his confused look. She gently squeezed him with her inner muscles for emphasis.

“Cor, luv!” he hissed before scowling up at her. By the time his spoke, that seductive smirk was back on his face, though. “Technically,” he said smugly, “my proper title ‘s Master. You’re free to call me that all you want, pet…”

“And who exactly is lying back and begging who, now?” she teased. “Maybe _you_ should call _me_ Master…”

“’m not beggin’ anyone,” he countered.

“Not yet,” she said with a mischievous, feline smile.

He was about to bite back with a sharp retort – something thoroughly annoying and cocky and absolutely sure to send her over the edge. However, before he even had the chance to open his mouth, those amazing inner muscles worked their magic on him once again.

 _Squeeze._

His eyes widened at the pressure and suction to his aching, swollen cock. Unconsciously, the tongue reached out to lick his lips.

“You like that, Spike-baby?” Buffy teased, riding him a slow, even pace so that he reached deep, deep inside her with every stroke.

The fiery spirit returned to his glazed eyes, and he refused to cave in and beg her.

Buffy’s wicked smile grew wider.

 _Squeeze._

He gasped and threw his head back.

 _Squeeze._

His hands clutched desperately at the concrete floor beneath him, desperate to find something to gain purchase on and finally finding her discarded jeans.

 _Squeeze._

He bit his lip to keep from crying out and curled his toes into the leather of his jacket.

 _Squeeze. Squeeze. Squeeeeeeeeze._

“Oh, Buffy! Yes, Buffy! Please! Please more!” The words escaped his mouth before he even realized it. _Oh well_ , he shrugged it off. _Harm’s already done…_ “Don’ stop, luv!” he cried out. “’m _beggin’_ you. Please, don’t stop!”

“There’s a good, little Big Bad,” she said with a triumphant smile. “Now, keep it up…” _Squeeze. Squeeze._

He scowled at her, and his eyes flashed yellow for a second, but then that warm, wet ecstasy enveloped him once more, and he no longer cared. “Yes, Buffy,” he whimpered. “That’s so good… _sooo_ good, pet. Please more? Ahhh yeah, like that. Jus’ a li’l further over? Yeah, there. There! _There_! _BUFFY_!!”

He roared aloud, vamping as he came, streams of cool, milky liquid shooting inside of her, calming the raging fire that burned deep within.

Buffy gasped at the feeling of sudden cold – his thick member had long since been thoroughly heated by her touch – but then the inferno blazed anew, not even the power of Spike’s orgasm enough to quench the rising flames.

She began to whimper slightly, rubbing her body against him desperately as she felt his body relax and his climax recede.

“Oh, Buffy…” he moaned softly as those long, beautiful eyelashes of his fluttered open.

She made a little mewling noise. “Spike…” she pleaded raggedly.

He instantly noticed that she had yet to be satisfied and gently rolled her over until she was beneath him. Her legs clung to his waist despairingly, but he brushed them both aside.

“ _Please_?” she whispered, thinking that this was his revenge.

He flashed her a cocky grin. “Don’ worry, luv,” he said, that insufferably arrogant tone back in his voice, “my women ‘re never left wantin’…not that I don’t ‘ppreciate the thought…” And then he slunk back down her body, agile as a jungle cat until his nose rested in her dark curls.

“Pig,” Buffy gasped when he lightly nuzzled her just above where she needed his touch the most.

He chuckled wryly. “An’ don’t you love it?”

“Yessss,” she agreed as the tip of his tongue finally flicked out at brushed the trembling, needy nub of flesh before him.

He used the sharp tip of his tongue to twirl the rosy bud around a bit, eliciting tentative gasps and moans from his ladylove. He gently lapped up the tangy juices there before flattening his tongue out and rubbing it back and forth across her roughly.

Buffy arched up into his face, her back bent like a bow. One flailing hand happened to come across his silky peroxide locks, and she dug her nails into his scalp, frantically holding him down to her.

With a sly smile, he brought one of his hands up to play, his thumb flicking her clit back and forth while his mouth sought out sweeter pastures. Her slit quivered against his touch, and he breathed in the heady aroma of Slayer arousal before continuing to pleasure her.

Buffy’s knees clenched around Spike’s head, effectively trapping him, as he began to lightly nibble at her outer folds. Her tender nerve endings sent electric jolts of delight throughout her body, culminating in the aching mound that his thumb was tending to so reverently.

He parted her folds so slowly she thought she would explode, but then finally his tongue was within her, relishing her flavor and lavishing attention upon all the most needy spots within her.

She began to rock her hips slowly in time with his tongue’s thrusts, feeling her orgasm building and building and…

She finally screamed her release out to the world when he pinched her clit sharply in time with his tongue’s deepest thrust yet. Her body spasmed in ecstasy beneath him as he lapped up all the spicy, exotic Slayer taste that flooded out onto his eager tongue, the salty flavor of his own pleasure blending to form the most mouth-watering cocktail he’d ever experienced.

“Oh, Spike…” she sighed, her knees finally releasing him when that wonderful post-orgasmic lassitude spread throughout her body.

He crawled up beside her and cradled her head against his shoulder as they both closed their eyes…

And then each opened one in perfect time to each other.

“This floor is hard,” Spike complained.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “This from a guy who sleeps on a stone sarcophagus every night…” she grumbled under her breath. “Anyway, I was going to complain about the cold.”

“There’s a nice mattress propped up against the wall there, luv,” he pointed out. “Bet ‘s more comfy than this.”

“Agreed,” Buffy groaned, reluctantly separating herself from his embrace and getting up.

Despite the weariness brought on by the multiple orgasms they’d each experienced, they managed to move the mattress out into the center of the room and dropped it to the floor unceremoniously.

Buffy curled up on it instantly, mumbling slightly in contentment when Spike settled down beside her, spreading his duster over them as a blanket.

“Love you,” she whispered, using the smooth planes of his chest as a pillow once more.

“Love you,” he agreed sleepily before sleep overcame him…


	16. Tête-à-tête with the Vampire

Buffy squeezed her eyes shut tight the instant she regained consciousness, desperately trying to hold back reality. If she kept her mind perfectly focused, she could ignore the truth of her situation just a little longer. And she just couldn’t face reality right now.

She took deep, steady breaths and attempted to project the world of her dreams onto her waking state.

The feel of a strong chest against her back. Cool, erratic, unnecessary breaths against her hair. A powerful, well-muscled arm around her waist. Skilled fingers caressing her stomach gently, lovingly…

She was surprised at just how realistic her fantasy world felt today. But it would undoubtedly make things even more painful when she woke up once more to find that Spike’s presence had just been a fragment from her dreams. So she kept her eyes closed and forced herself to feel him for as long as was physically possible…

“Luv?”

One eye cracked open involuntarily at the roughly accented syllable. No dream ever was this vivid…

“Buffy-luv,” Spike whispered against her shoulder, “I know you’re awake…”

“Spike?” Buffy asked breathlessly, hardly daring to believe. “You’re really here?”

“’Course, kitten,” he said with a slight smile against the back of her neck. “’m trapped with you, remember?”

 _Not a dream, not a dream, not a dream!_ Buffy’s mind was screaming in joy. “Spike?” Buffy repeated, a bit coyly, a bit seductively this time.

“Yes, pet?” He gently kissed her shoulder blade.

“Why aren’t you making love to me?”

He chuckled, and the hand on her stomach slid down to catch one leg and lift it up and back over his lean hip. She felt his long hardness press up against her backside for a second before it slipped between her thighs and pressed slowly into her opening until he was all the way inside.

“That better, princess?” he teased lightly as he slowly began to thrust within her.

“Oh god, Spike!” she exclaimed, biting her bottom lip slightly. It was always a bit of a shock just how big he really was. “Now _that’ll_ wake a girl up…”

“I take it you approve of my… _dimensions_ then?” he joked, nibbling at her ear.

“They’re… _satisfactory_ ,” Buffy giggled in response.

“Hmph. Maybe I should jus’ send you packin’ back to Soldier Boy since you’re so unappreciative…” He pulled out of her a bit more than usual, adding a physical aspect to his mock-threat.

Instantly her hand flew back to catch his ass and pull him back up against her with renewed vigor. “Sorry, baby,” she patted his rump once affectionately, “didn’t mean to sully your manhood. And there’s _no way_ I’m going back to…ugh.”

He gave a harder thrust than usual in pleasure at her obvious preference of him over her ex.

“You feel so good, Spike…” she whispered softly, craning her neck so that she could see him behind her.

Their lips met in a light kiss, but the angle of their bodies made it impossible to deepen it enough to satisfy either.

“I want to see you…” Buffy managed to get out her breathless request before Spike pulled out of her, flipped her onto her back, and was inside of her again all in less than a second. She giggled slightly. “That should be an Olympic event,” she said, looking deep into his eyes. “You’d win the gold, love.”

“ _We’d_ win the gold,” he agreed with a slight grin.

Their lips met again, this time able to fully convey just how badly they wanted and needed each other. Their lips slanted repeatedly against each other, exploring new, deeper angles with each pass. Teeth caught lips, tongues flicked over teeth, and then the kiss turned into a battle of tongues, just like it always did. Neither sought victory, merely the desire to keep the fight up forever and ever…

Their hips took on a lazy pace, enjoying being locked together but neither to eager to force their climaxes yet. They both wanted this to last as long as possible, to remain one being for as long as they could hold out…

“Spike.” That breathy sound was the first that escaped Buffy’s lips after she pulled away from their kiss for air.

“Buffy.” He didn’t move to kiss her again, content to keep his distance for a bit, give him a chance to see her face, memorize every little detail…

She studied his eyes seriously, watching with amazement just how clearly the emotion shone through them. She’d never really noticed just how clear and open they were before, and it fascinated her. It was almost like she could _feel_ his pleasure as well, and she wished that he could see the same thing in her eyes, discover that same marvelous connection… Although, by the way he was looking at her, she was pretty confident he could and was.

His hand came up to gently twine in her long, golden hair, stroking the perfumed silk in time with the gentle rocking of their hips.

She smiled and returned the favor, her fingers tracing the strong outline of his face, lingering slightly on the scar on his left eyebrow and soothing the old wound with the heat of her touch.

They gasped and hissed and murmured as they petted and touched each other in the most tender and intimate ways imaginable. Finally their hands met, their fingers slowly intertwining, joining, becoming one…

“I love you, Spike,” Buffy finally said in a lazy whisper.

“Love you, too,” he agreed.

“It’s stupid, you know. I shouldn’t, but I do.”

“Feelin’s more’n mutual, Slayer,” he teased.

“Why do I love you so much?” she asked curiously, cupping his cheek with her free palm.

A passionate, blue fire burned deep in his eyes, and then he was moving within her in the most exquisite ways. She couldn’t even begin to describe what he was doing…a straight thrust here and a quick twirl of his hips there...but the overall effect had her dizzy from pleasure.

 _That would be the one hundred plus years of experience…_ The thought somehow flitted through her mind, which was impressive given that her mind seemed to have completely shut off beyond the rote repetition of: _Spike, good._

“Startin’ to remember why you love me so much, kitten?” he whispered huskily into her ear, his hips never slowing in their erotic dance.

“Spi-i-ike!” her voice quavered with the force of the fire that was building deep within her womb.

“’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” he teased before ducking down to lavish his mouth’s attentions upon the exposed column of her throat.

Buffy clutched him to her desperately, her arms wrapping around his back, squeezing him so tightly to her that her breasts flattened against the planes of his chest, the friction between their bodies stoking an almost unbearable heat.

And still it wasn’t close enough.

She felt the irrational desire to crawl under his skin at that moment, to bury herself deep inside him, completely surrender herself to him, and be kept safe forever from the outside world by his love…

“Need you!” she gasped.

“You got me.” His own voice sounded just as tense as she felt, as the intensity of their coupling got to be almost more than he could handle.

“You’re mine?” She hadn’t meant for it to come out as a question. It wasn’t supposed to sound so needy, so wanting, so… _vulnerable_ …

“’m yours, luv,” he answered before she could worry about her admission too much. “You mine?”

“Y-Yes,” she agreed shakily. “All yours, Spike. No one but you, baby…”

“Mine,” he murmured contently, his voice muffled by the waves of her silken hair.

“Mine,” she said softly, stroking his hair and massaging his back.

And then the steadily building pleasure within them exploded, and everything dissolved. There was no basement, no room, no mattress, no united bodies, no Buffy and Spike even. All that existed at that moment were two spiritually linked _beings_ , blending so closely into each other that for one instant they were indistinguishable.

And then the universe came rushing back.

They both started in amazement when they found themselves back in their bodies, once again apart but still together at least in the coupling of their bodies and the combined pleasure that still raked through them.

They gasped in awe and rode out the final waves before collapsing together in a tangled mass of limbs, both desperately trying to grasp the magnitude of what just happened.

“Was that…magic?” Spike finally hazarded to ask.

“Not the way you mean it, baby,” Buffy smiled at him lazily and stroked his cheek one more. She didn’t think she could ever get tired of feel of his razor-sharp cheekbones. “Just the two of us _really_ making love…although I suppose that’s magical enough in and of itself…”

“Mmm…” he murmured against her still-heated flesh. “Never felt that before…”

“Never?” There was a hint of anguish in Buffy’s voice as she turned his chin to look him in the eyes.

He shook his head. “No one’s ever really loved me before,” he said simply.

“Oh, my baby…” Buffy pulled him tight into her embrace and let one tear slip down her cheek. “My love, my soul, my Spike…”

He cuddled deep into her arms and sniffled a bit himself. “Love you,” he whispered softly. “You know that, right? I really do love you…”

“I know,” Buffy agreed with a small smile, letting her grip on him loosen. She leaned in towards him conspiratorially. “Actually,” she giggled as she whispered, “you’re not very good at hiding it.”

He pretended to look offended, but this just got another laugh from Buffy. “Bloody irritatin’ chit,” he grumbled under his breath.

“Mmm-hmm,” she agreed curling up against the back he’d just turned to her. “I’m just as annoying and impossible as you. Why do you think we’re so good together, baby?”

He sighed and relaxed against her touch. “Got me there,” he conceded.

Buffy gasped in mock-amazement. “Do mine ears deceive me? Did William the Bloody, Spike, the most stubborn and pigheaded man on the planet actually admit that I was right?”

He scowled and rolled over onto his back so he could see her. “Very cute, Slayer,” he said sarcastically. “With a razor-sharp wit like that, you’ve got quite a career in comedy ahead of you…”

She smiled and rested her head on his chest. “Well, I do practice every night on the vamps I slay…except tonight, of course. How long do you think they’ll keep us locked up in here anyway?”

He shrugged. “I presume they’ll let us out before we starve to death.”

Buffy nodded in agreement. “Although I’m a bit more worried about the lack of a bathroom…I’d say that one limits it to a day, tops. Probably less.”

“Dunno, kitten,” he sighed. “They prob’ly figured we’ve got lots to work out…”

“Well, we kinda do,” Buffy pointed out with a sheepish smile.

“So,” he took a deep breath, “do I get to start?”

“Shoot.”

“Wha’d you ever do with C—er, _Riley_ anyway?” he demanded.

Buffy gave him a wicked little smile. “You mean Captain Cardboard?” she teased. “I dumped him. Then, he wouldn’t leave me alone so I reported him to the Initiative. He’s currently far, far away undergoing psych evaluations.”

“I love a story with a happy ending,” he joked lightly. “OK, pet, no more worryin’ ‘bout you ex.”

“My turn then,” she declared. “I want a deal.”

“A deal?” Spike raised one scarred eyebrow while he fished around in his discarded clothing for his cigarettes. He silently asked her if it was all right to light one up, and she agreed.

“If we’re going to keep this up, I need some kind of assurance you’re not going to go all Angelus on me,” she explained.

“Chip,” he said, using his cigarette as a pointer to gesture to his right temple.

Buffy snorted. “Yeah, _Initiative_ chip. Given how completely incompetent they are at everything else, I can’t trust that thing in your head to last.”

Spike smiled a delighted little smile, this idea obviously not having occurred to him before. The smile quickly dropped at the pissed off look she was giving him, though. “Er, that’s…bad?” he hazarded a guess.

She rolled her eyes. “No, Spike,” she retorted, her voice practically oozing sarcasm, “it’s a good thing that you could be running loose again in another few months, trying to kill me and my friends.”

“Now, why on earth would I wanna kill you when there ‘re so many more… _pleasurable_ things we could do together?” he asked, a seductive smirk on his lips.

“Spike, be serious,” she scolded him.

He rolled his eyes and stubbed his cigarette out on the floor. “Whattaya want me ta say then, Slayer?” he demanded.

“That I can trust you. In every sense of the word.”

He looked deep into her eyes for a second as if gauging her mood, and then he responded with the only answer he could give. “I love you.”

Buffy’s steely gaze melted as she first considered the implications of that statement for the first time. She leaned into him then and stole a long, languid kiss, the unspoken words flitting through her mind. _I love you. You can trust me._ Her fingers twined into his platinum curls and pulled him in deeper. _I love you. I would never hurt you._ His hand caught her thigh and brought it up over his hip, allowing their bodies to press together more intimately. _I love you. Your pain is my pain…_

Buffy finally pulled back before things got out of hand again. She took several calming breaths and then flashed him a radiant smile. “That answers my question,” she assured him, “but still… Deal? Could be fun. You and me. Alone together. Killing things.”

“Three ‘f my favorite phrases,” he chuckled, a slight purr vibrating through his chest at being a part of an unstoppable team once more.

“Mine, too,” she agreed. “So? I’m severely short a slaying partner right now…not that Riley was much help anyway. He kind of spent most of his time getting beaten up and screaming like a little girl. It was more hassle than it was worth. Which is why I’m looking for someone stronger now…” She decided a little ego stroking and ex bashing couldn’t hurt.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, partner,” he agreed with a sly smile.

She let out a delighted little squeal and wrapped her arms around his neck. “We’re going to have so much fun, baby,” she informed him.

He gave her a wry grin. “Havin’ fun already, luv,” he said, grinding his hips up against her.

She playfully batted him in the shoulder. “Sex later. Conversation now. You’re turn.”

Spike rolled his eyes and let his head fall back against the mattress in despair. “Fine, I get the easy one then. Me Vampire, you Slayer.”

“Me Slayer, me love Vampire, me not stake Vampire. You Vampire, you love Slayer, you not kill Slayer. Problem solved,” she joked.

His expression remained sober, however. “Luv,” he began, “you’re ignorin’ the issue here. What you’re seein’ of me…” he shifted over into game face, “…’s the whole me.”

She studied his demonic countenance for a little while before cautiously lifting up one hand to stroke his scarred brow ridge. “Beautiful,” she said softly. She looked deep into his yellowed eyes and saw the same man hidden beneath their depths as she always did. “You’re so beautiful like this,” she informed him, the tip of her index finger stroking up and down the length of his fang.

The action caused his cock to spring straight up to his stomach, and she giggled in response. Certain of Giles’ dirtier vampire books had mentioned that the fangs were a sexual organ, but she’d never gotten to see such obvious first-hand evidence of it before.

“Oops,” she said with a feline smile, “my bad. Don’t worry, lover. I’ll _fix_ it…”

He was about to comment, but then she slid down his body and the tip of her tongue lashed out and caught the salty drop of precum that had escaped his foreskin. Needless to say, all coherent speech vanished for him at this point.

She took him slowly into her mouth at first, hesitant and experimental. After all, she’d never actually gotten a chance to do this before – an unfortunate side effect of having only had three one-night stands before him.

However, she caught on pretty fast. Licking veins was _definitely_ good. As was pushing back the foreskin. As was cupping his balls. As was pretty much anything involving her body in contact with his sex.

Beneath her, Spike was whimpering and then roaring and then purring and then growling. His rapid changes vocalization just urged her to do even more wicked things to him. He vamped out and fisted his hands in the mattress when her mouth finally engulfed him all the way, his head pressing into the back of her throat.

“Y’know,” Buffy commented as she pulled back and returned to simple licks and sucks, “they always say that you have to suppress your gag reflex while deep-throating. They’re wrong, though. I don’t want to gag, baby; I want to eat you right up.” And with that she was deep-throating him in earnest.

“Cor, Buffy!” he cried out, his balls beginning to clench at her naughty words. “So good! So wonderful! Warm an’-an’ wet, an’…don’ stop, luv! Please, don’ stop! I’m gonna…”

She felt him quiver with tension within her mouth, and she sucked her cheeks in around him tighter.

“…Cummmm…Arrggghhh….!” Spike finally roared as he shot into her hot, willing mouth.

Buffy drank down what she could, enjoying the cool, salty liquid. She’d never really tasted anything like it before, but it felt very much like…Spike. Concentrated essence of Spike. No wonder she liked it so much.

She released him when he softened in her mouth and meticulously lapped up all the cum that had escaped her mouth. By the time she was done licking and cleaning, he had his eyes squeezed shut tight and a deep, resonant purr was vibrating through his chest, making her shiver when she rested her head against one magnificently muscled pec once more.

“I take it you like,” she finally asked slyly.

“Oh, I more than ‘like’. I love, I worship, I…” His tone turned serious once more. “Buffy, you didn’t have to do that to—”

“Shh…” she hushed, putting her index finger to his lips. “I wanted to, baby. I wanted to give you pleasure. I wanted you to feel _good_ …”

“Did at that, luv,” he agreed, drifting off into a comfortable sleep. “Did at that…”

Buffy snuggled closer to him and wrapped the black leather duster around them once more. _I could stay like this forever_ , she thought lazily to herself as she drifted off to sleep. _Warm, safe, comfortable, in Spike’s arms…_


	17. Annoyed Contentment

Xander gulped. He turned to look at Willow pleadingly, but her Resolve Face was out in full force. There was no way in hell to persuade her. He was stuck. He took a deep breath and reached out one shaky hand to lift the latch.

He froze, feeling the three behind him still as well. They waited for a minute. Two. Still, nothing but silence from inside the storage room.

With aching slowness, Xander opened the large, metal door, praying to every higher power he could think that he not die today. The sight that met him once the door was fully opened was not encouraging.

Buffy stood in the middle of the room, several feet back from the door, her hands on her hips in a ‘you’re about to be slain’ manner. Her eyes were molten with fury, and she scowled as she saw those who had tricked her.

Spike was beside her, leaning back against a tall holder of collapsible chairs, occasionally taking a drag from the cigarette between his lips with the best ‘pissed off Master Vampire’ look he could manage. No one who looked into his eyes at that moment could have any doubt that he was gleefully disemboweling them in his mind.

Oh well, it could be _slightly_ worse, Xander decided. They could be naked. “Hi, guys,” Xander’s voice squeaked up several octaves on the ‘hi’.

“Xander.” Buffy’s tone was frigid. “Willow. Anya. Tara.”

“Hi?” Willow gave the two of them a nervous little finger wave.

Buffy and Spike exchanged a glance before turning back to look at the four nervous Scoobies.

“Do you have _any_ idea how dead you are?” Buffy asked curiously, tilting her head to one side. She smiled slightly when she saw Xander flinch.

“Uh…sorry?” he apologized anxiously.

“I have been in here for sixteen hours with no toilet,” Buffy scowled. “You owe me for life.”

Xander nodded nervously in agreement.

Anya rolled her eyes and decided that it was once again time to rush to her boyfriend’s rescue. “I don’t see what you’re complaining about,” she informed Buffy. “You’ve obviously been getting many orgasms while you were here. This whole place smells of sex. And there are no windows, either. I wonder how long it will take to air out?”

Buffy and Spike both gave Anya a hard look, and then both their faces began to crack into little, amused smiles. That was the great thing about the former vengeance demon; no matter how angry you were, she could always find something so completely _outrageous_ to say that you just had to cheer up.

“Maybe they could get some fans,” Spike suggested off-handedly. “’Sides, we’re helpin’ ‘em with the hardest part.”

Buffy struggled to turn her expression serious again. “That’s right,” she said sternly. “You’re going to make this up to us, and you’re going to start by helping Spike.” She quickly walked passed them and out the door. “ _I’m_ going to find the bathroom…”

Willow and Tara snickered slightly, but sobered at the evil-glare-of-death Spike gave them.

“You’re all carryin’,” he informed them, gesturing over to the mattress.

Xander looked at him quizzically. “Huh?” he finally demanded.

“We’re movin’ it over to my crypt,” Spike explained patiently. “Don’ really fancy sleepin’ on that sarcophagus forever, y’know. That, and the Slayer an’ I have fond memories…”

“Y-You want us to touch…?” Xander gaped in horror. “Where you and Buffy…?”

“Oh, don’t be a prude, honey,” Anya patted him on the shoulder and moved to the far side of the mattress to help lift up one corner. “Your friends have come into physical contact with many objects we have had sex upon.” She turned to Spike and gave him a bright smile. “I also find myself nostalgic for places I have copulated in.” she informed him.

Spike chuckled as everyone else in the room’s faces turned bright red. “Always knew you ‘ad a bit ‘f sense to you, Anyanka,” he commented.

“Riiight then,” Xander sighed. “Let’s get this over with. Will, you and Tara take that corner, and – Spike? – you go kitty-corner from me, and…there. On three then?” he inquired then before they all lifted on the count of three…

* * *

The Scooby Gang lay strewn about the room in defeat. Willow and Tara were curled up together in the reclining chair, eyes closed in exhaustion. Xander sat on a cushion on the floor, leaning back up against the wall, Anya sleeping in his lap. He pulled up the edge of the navy blue blanket that covered them when she shivered and then spared a glance for the final couple in the room.

Spike lay on his back, sprawled across the mattress that now rested atop the stone sarcophagus. The fact that his eyes were closed and he wasn’t breathing were pretty good signs that he actually was asleep.

Buffy lay beside him, her body wrapped up around his in a way she would never allow in public if she were awake.

Xander fought back the urge to make gagging noises. Honestly, if the two of them decided to carry on in that insufferably cutesy manner they’d taken to during the engagement spell, he would never forgive himself for his part in the setting them up together. Fortunately, so far they’d just been their usual fighty/flirty selves with only occasionally more touching. Xander decided that he could live with that.

As he watched, Buffy stirred slightly, a murmur of contentment escaping her lips when she found herself next to the peroxide blond vampire. She yawned, smacked her lips together, and sat up to stretch.

That was when she saw that Xander was there.

She instantly blushed and attempted to untangle her limbs from Spike’s. The effort was futile, of course. Even in his sleep, he was annoyingly persistent. She finally gave up with a sigh.

“You still here?” she asked Xander softly, so as not to wake Anya or Spike.

He nodded. “We all are,” he gestured over to where Willow and Tara slept as well. “Damn, that thing was hard to move…”

“It wasn’t even that heavy,” Buffy complained, “just floppy and awkward.”

“Lucky thing you helped us,” Xander agreed. A little smile quirked on his lips. “Especially when we had to explain what we were doing to that campus police officer…”

Buffy giggled at the memory. “I swear he thought we were off to an orgy in the woods.”

Xander smiled fondly at the memory of their conflicting and nonsensical excuses. “Yeah… Lucky the campus police don’t give a damn.”

Buffy laughed and rested her head back against Spike’s chest. “Xander?” she said after a minute.

“Yeah?”

“Er…um…I don’t quite know how to ask this…” she began nervously.

He look turned several degrees more curious.

“What I mean is…OK, me, vampire,” Buffy finally said. “What’s up with that? I mean, you _hate_ vampires, and then you’re setting me up with one, and…it’s weird.”

“Who said I hate vampires?” Xander asked in surprise.

Buffy gave him a disbelieving look. “You did,” she informed him, “like every single day I was dating Angel. And then you said that I was crazy for dating one and that you would kill Angel, and—”

“Ah!” Xander cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Sensing the source of the confusion here. See, what you’re missing here is the extreme degree to which I just did _not_ like Angel…”

“Because he was a vampire.”

“No, because he was _Angel_ ,” Xander clarified. “Yeah, the vampire thing was a bit of a concern, especially since he couldn’t control himself for more than two seconds without the soul, but Angel himself was the thing I objected to.”

“What’s wrong with Angel?” Buffy huffed, irritated.

Xander rolled his eyes sarcastically. “Oh, let’s see… He puts on this whole brooding, tortured, hey-all-you-women-feel-really-sorry-for-me-and-get-sucked-into-my-land-of-misery-by-trying-to-redeem-me act, and then he goes through this whole star-crossed lovers bit where he loves you and then he can’t and then he does and then his trying to fight it, and he flings you back and forth on this emotional roller-coaster for no good reason other than it makes him seem more like the poor, suffering hero, and then—”

“OK, OK, I get the picture!” Buffy cut him off. “But it’s not his fault that he was—”

“Argh!” Xander exclaimed. “That’s exactly why I can’t stand the guy! He had the damn act down so well that everyone excused everything he ever did. Well, I’m sorry, but he was just weak and sad and depressed and way too addicted to the pain, and _no one_ should have to put up with that with him. Honestly, Buffy, you still worship the ground he walks on so much that you let him dictate your entire relationship with Riley. It’s not healthy to let your ex run your life like that!”

“Angel wouldn’t approve of Spike,” Buffy pointed out.

Xander smiled. “And that’s part of why I think he’s good for you. You’ve been living in Angel’s shadow less and less ever since you and Spike started working together. It’s like I can see that spark of life and _happiness_ back in your eyes whenever he’s around you. He brings out the best in you, Buff, and strangely I think you bring out the best in him, too…”

She considered this for a moment. “He agreed to help me with my patrols, you know.”

“See?” Xander insisted. “You’ve been together for one day, and already you’ve dragged him over to the forces of light. And Giles will be so psyched. He’s been trying to convince Spike to help out for _months_.”

Buffy flinched. “I get the feeling he’ll be less thrilled about the vampire lovin’.”

Xander shrugged. “Actually, he was kinda surprised it didn’t start up again after the wedding spell. According to him, it’s scandalous the way you two flirt all the time.”

“ _Giles_ says this?!” she asked in disbelief.

He nodded.

“Why did _everyone_ know I was in love with Spike before I did?” she sighed in exasperation.

“You _were_ pretty obvious,” he pointed out.

Buffy nodded in defeat. “So,” she got back on track, “this cancels out the vampire thing?” She still wasn’t convinced.

Xander gave her a sheepish look and opened his mouth to speak before his eyes widened in worry. “You _sure_ he’s asleep?” he demanded.

Buffy leaned over and kissed Drusilla’s bite mark on his neck, smiling at the memories of all the fun _she’d_ gotten to have breaking the insane vampiress’ claim on him. He murmured and curled up against her a bit more at her reassertion of her claim, but he didn’t awaken.

“Like a baby,” she assured Xander.

“OK, then,” Xander agreed. “You never, ever tell him this, right?”

“Xander, what is it?” Buffy demanded, suddenly horribly curious.

“Promise,” he insisted.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “All right, I promise,” she agreed. “Now tell me.”

“For a vampire,” Xander said in a conspiratorial whisper, “he’s actually kinda cool. I mean, we argue like crazy and all, but he’s fun to hang out with, and he plays a mean game of pool, and he treats Anya like she’s a real _person_ , and he defends me against nasty burly guys at the Bronze who think I’ve swindled them – that last one being hypothetical, of course.”

Buffy giggled at the image. “Hypothetical, right,” she said with false conviction before she started laughing again.

Xander muttered under his breath about how he never got any respect. “And he’s so not Angel, I’m not even going to go there,” he finished. “He’s honest and straightforward, and he won’t fuck with you head, Buffy. If he says he loves you—”

“He does.”

“—Then he loves you, and he’s not going to leave you with some half-assed excuse,” Xander finished.

“And when did you become an expert on all things Spike?” Buffy demanded with a small smile.

Xander groaned. “Since I had to live with him for two months,” he informed her. “I gotta tell you, I may _like_ the guy, but if I ever have to live with him again, he is _so_ dust. He’s like the poster boy for World’s Worst Roommate.”

“Yeah,” Buffy agreed, gesturing to the crypt around them, “just look at his decorating sense…”

Xander snorted. “You shoulda seen it when he _first_ moved in,” he retorted.

“I can only imagine… But, thanks,” she said with a small smile.

“For what?” He seemed honestly not to know.

“For being cool with this. For letting me do what makes me happy. For putting up with another of my demon lovers,” she answered in quick succession.

“What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t want you to be happy?” he shrugged it off. “Plus, I’ve discovered the joys of the demon lover as well.”

Buffy giggled. “We should start a club.”

“Demon Lovers Anonymous,” Xander agreed, “except it’s not a problem…”

“Nope,” Buffy agreed, gently ruffling Spike’s hair. “In fact some demons know how to love better than humans do…”

“Like, say, Riley,” Xander retorted.

“Amen to that,” Buffy agreed…

* * *

Buffy and Spike let out a sigh of relief when the four Scoobies finally recovered enough to leave. Frankly, the effort of keeping their clothes on was far too great, and the instant they were alone they quickly remedied the problem.

However, the desperation ended there. As they together, side by side and skin to skin on the mattress, they suddenly became content with just _being_ with one another.

“Y’know,” Buffy said with a small smile, “I’ve been dreaming about just this all week…”

“What?” Spike teased. “Not havin’ sex?”

She playfully swatted at his head. “No, silly. You. Me. Sarcophagus. Nakedness.”

“’S a lovely combination,” he agreed with a little wink.

She rested her head in the crook of his shoulder and looked up at the stone ceiling. For a while, she just allowed her body to feel every inch of Spike that was pressed up against her, savoring his cool, smooth alabaster skin and the hard muscles beneath it…one of which was becoming increasingly harder…

“It’s strange,” she finally said, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

“What is, kitten?” he inquired, his lips gently brushing her temple.

“This,” she said. “You. Me. How we came to be.”

“No arguments there, luv,” he said with a small grin. “No complaints, either…”

“It’s just…what if we hadn’t started working together under that spell? Would all this have happened?” she asked nervously.

He shrugged. “Prob’ly not,” he agreed. “Never would’ve even let myself _look_ at my mortal enemy…”

“Me, neither,” Buffy agreed. “I never would’ve trusted you, gotten to know you, fallen in love… My job as the Slayer would have prevented it all.”

“We’re lucky it _did_ happen then,” he agreed.

She nodded. “It’s just sad,” she sighed. “That I could have gone all my life with you right there beside me, and me never seeing how we could be together…” She trailed off and began to stroke his hair. “I mean, I’d like to think that love was like destiny and that we were inevitable no matter what, but somehow I don’t think it would have worked.”

“Maybe ‘f you’d gotten off you high horse for one second an’ admitted how you jus’ wanted to jump me all along,” Spike joked.

Buffy swatted him on the shoulder. “I’m trying to be emotional and sappy here, and you’re making it difficult,” she complained.

“Vampires don’ _get_ emotional an’ sappy,” he retorted.

“What about back in the storage room when you said that—Mmf!” she was abruptly cut off when his hand covered her mouth.

“Vampire don’ get emotional an’ sappy,” he insisted again. “’m the Big Bad. I don’ say sweet things like…whatever it was you were thinkin’ of…” he nervously trailed off.

“Right,” Buffy giggled. “You’re way too evil and manly. I’m sure all gushiness I was hearing was just some demon dialogue for ‘Unh! Good fuck!’.”

He sulked. “There’s no reason to mock me,” he retorted.

“You were ruining my ‘moment’,” she countered.

“Well then, carry on, luv,” he said with a sly smirk. “Din’t mean to annoy…”

“Yes, you did,” she accused. “’Cause you know how sexy I find it…”

“Mmm,” he murmured into her hair, inhaling the fragrant vanilla perfume.

“So, where was I?” Buffy demanded.

“Us not ever gettin’ together,” he provided.

“Right,” she agreed. “It’s so sad…”

“Yeah,” Spike agreed with a chuckle, “you could still be stuck with Cap’n Cardboard.”

Buffy shuddered. “Don’t think I could’ve pulled that act off much longer, though. Sooner or later we’d ‘ve realized just how terribly _not right_ we were together.”

“Dunno,” he retorted, “White Bread seemed pretty dense ‘bout it.”

“So was I,” she pointed out, “until you opened my eyes to something better…”

Their lips met in a brief kiss that naturally deepened, and before either of them knew what was happening, Buffy was on her back and Spike was inside her.

They clutched each other’s bodies tightly, reasserting that this was real, that they had found each other in this world and would never let go again.

Their lips latched together, licking and biting and tasting and savoring, tongues dueling and teeth nipping as their hips thrust together in a steadily increasing rhythm.

Neither bothered to hold their lovemaking out, knowing that they had forever to take their time. It was a gentle climax for both, and they held each other tightly and let out little cries of each other’s name as the smooth waves of pleasure washed over them.

“I love you,” Spike whispered, rolling to the side and pulling her with him.

She snuggled against his chest and smiled lazily. “Love you, too,” she whispered into the pillow of his chest. “You know,” she said, “we really owe Jonathan…”

“Yeah…” Spike agreed, closing his eyes.

Then one quirked back open. “Jus’ one question, Betty,” he began.

“ _Buffy_. Yeah?”

“Who’s Jonathan?”


End file.
